


Golden Boy

by Veeebles



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anxiety, Billy has a lot of demons, Billy is my precious son and i need him redeemed, Billy loves Max, Billy's past, Bisexual! SteveHarrington, Blowjobs, Bonding, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Harrington, California! Billy, Depictions of Abuse, Drama & Romance, El likes Billy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings, First Kisses, Flashbacks, Frottage, Gay Sex, Gay! Billy Hargrove, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Max Needs A Hug, Neal is a racist and a homophobe, Neal is an asshole, PTSD, Panic Attack, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Racist Language, Romance, Smoking, Steve being a mom/babysitter, Steve just wants to help, Swearing, The Quarry, Top Billy Hargrove, Top Steve Harrington, Underage Drinking, Varsatile, Will add tags as I go, i dont know what else to tag, im going deep, intimate sex, like a huge asshole, might include some derogatory terms, not a lot though because i cant i get too upset, post second season, secret keeping, sex with feelings, the gang being the gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:36:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veeebles/pseuds/Veeebles
Summary: He can’t stand his kindness. Can’t stand the pity or the care. He doesn’t want Steve’s soft touches, doesn’t want him patching him up, cleaning away the blood and kissing the bruises. He wants the hurt, wants Steve to add to it, wants him to pull the cuts into deep gashes that bleed and scar. He wants the bruises to be in the shape of Steve’s fingers, his mouth, his teeth. He wants Steve to burn himself into his skin so there is no Neil left anymore just Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

_His skin glistens in the California sun, water droplets sparkling like gems, sliding down the contours of his chest, pooling in the golden grains they lie on. Billy runs a hand through them, feeling the heat of the sun soaked in to the rich umber of his skin, contrasting beautifully against Billy’s golden hue._

_His eyes crinkle at the corners and his teeth are white as pearls as he grins up at Billy, one hand tucked behind his own head, the other looped around Billy’s waist. The roll and crash of the waves is calming, the warmth of the sun as it slowly lowers in the sky, casting the few clouds there orange and pink and yellow._

_They’re the only two on the beach; some tiny, tucked away spit of sand among rocks that no one ever comes to but they call refuge to share this time together, away from prying eyes. Away from hateful looks and remarks._

_Billy draws his fingers through the thick coils of his hair, fingers resting at the nape of his neck, pressed in to the sand. He smiles down at him, feels his hand rub up and down his bare back and leans down, pressing their lips together, feeling him sigh against his mouth, hand pressing in to the small of his back, fingers tracing gentle circles._

_They kiss slow and gentle, tasting each other, testing new waters. Billy smiles in to the kiss and only breaks it when he needs to come up for air. When he opens his eyes the sun has set, the sky cast misty blue and cold._

 

V

 

The scuff of his boots on the wet road fills the silence as he walks. He pulls out his reds, wrapping his busted lips around one and lights it with a quick flip of his zippo. The smoke swirls around him as he walks, fills his lungs and he sighs, blowing it back out. The road is long and surrounded by nothing but trees, the moon, high in the sky is his only light. The night air has a chill in it and it shudders through his bones, shakes him to his core, numbs his mind.

He hates this fucking town, He hates its cold and rain, how tiny it is, its continuous silence, like its holding its breath, trying to disappear. He hates being so far away from the ocean, from the sun, feels his skin grow pale from it. He hates Neil. He hates how sharp his jaw throbs and the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He hates the ache in his ribs and the print of his boot on his shirt.

He takes another long drag of the cigarette and snorts, spitting on the road and doesn’t break stride despite the sight of how much blood hits the road. Another drag and he flicks his thumb against the filter, watching burned out ash drop from the end to join the crimson stains.

The road lights up and the low rumble of a car behind him disrupts his thoughts. He ducks his head but continues walking, whoever the fucker is he can go around him, if he had anything to say about his jaywalking he could fight him. Billy’s blood is up, he could use an excuse to blow off some steam.

But the car doesn’t go around. It slows down and creeps to a crawl beside Billy. The blond nearly freezes, thinking it’s Neil for a moment, but it couldn’t be. He was sound asleep when Billy snuck out. He hears a window rolling down and he’s about to run, about to turn around and scream, about to punch the daylights out of whoever the fuck thinks it’s smart to bug him right now.

 “Hargrove, that you?”

Billy would have laughed if he didn’t have bruised ribs. Of fucking course, it was Steve fucking Harington, who else would it be?

“The one and only.”

His voice is rough from the smoke and the cold air. The hand that had been wrapped around it earlier was probably a factor too.

“What the fuck are you doing walking out here at night?”

He keeps walking, keeps his eyes ahead, keeps smoking his cigarette, too full of tension, anxiety, anger, too full of too many emotions. There’s an edge to Steve’s voice, an edge that speaks of someone that fears something, fears the woods or the dark or fears being alone deep in the night.

“I can take care of myself, Pretty Boy.”

The breaks on Steve’s Beamer squeak when he presses them and the sound pierces Billy’s skull and makes him grimace, biting down on the filter of his smoke.

“Get in the car, I’ll take you home.”

Billy barks a laugh at that, home is the last pace he wants to get to right now. He spits his spent cigarette to the ground crushing it beneath his boot and finally turns to face the brunette, bending down to the rolled down window, resting his forearms on the top of the car door and leering over the passenger seat to where Steve sits. He’s got some stupid, red, fluffy jumper on, signature hair of his all over the place, one hand on the steering wheel, the other around the back of the passenger seat. Billy takes a moment to watch the way his thumb rubs against the worn leather of the wheel. Steve’s eyes are wide and full of concern, shining a little in the low light, Pretty Boy has never been a better fitting name for him.

Billy refuses to feel self-conscious under his gaze. He sees the way those brown eyes shift over his face, down to the bruises around his neck and down his chest. He fleetingly thinks about buttoning his shirt up but fuck that. He never does. Let them see. He won’t ever cover them up. Let people think what they wanted. Most just assumed he got them brawling anyway. 

“Thanks, but no thanks, King Steve.”

Steve squints in the low light, eyes tracing over the mess that must be Billy’s face and Billy wants to bite, wants to scream and thrash, punch those pretty fucking eyes so they can’t see him anymore. He doesn’t want him to look at him in that softness, doesn’t want his pity.

“Man, what the hell happened to you?”

The boy’s voice is low, like he’s not meaning to say this out loud, like he’s accidentally voicing the thoughts in his head. Billy clenches his fists and straightens again, pulling out another red and lighting it fast, needing something to do with his hands. He takes a long puff and turns, leaning his back against the car, ass resting on the bonnet, hearing Steve shift in his seat to look out the dash at him.

“Sex got a bit rough last night, I’m telling you; the cougars in this town are fucking wild.”

He hears a noise of annoyance from inside the car and his eye twinges in pain when he grins around his cigarette, taking a long draw and pulling it out with his thumb and finger, rolling it between them as he exhales. He’s lying through his teeth and Steve knows it.

“Seriously, man.”

He can’t stand his kindness. Can’t stand the pity or the care. He doesn’t want Steve’s soft touches, doesn’t want him patching him up, cleaning away the blood and kissing the bruises. He wants the hurt, wants Steve to add to it, wants him to pull the cuts into deep gashes that bleed and scar. He wants the bruises to be in the shape of Steve’s fingers, his mouth, his teeth. He wants Steve to burn himself into his skin so there is no Neil left anymore.

He can’t stand the sappiness of it all. It makes his skin itch and his bones tingle. He smokes down to the filter and takes another draw, feeling it burn his lips, tonguing the end. He spits it out and kicks off the bonnet, turning to glare down at the face peering up at him through a dirty wind screen.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, Harrington.”

“I’m just trying to help-”

“Yeah well don’t, go back to your fucking kids, Mama Bear and leave me the fuck alone.”

Steve looks at him incredulously but he doesn’t seem upset. He looks angry and there’s something in Billy that warms to it, wants to see more of that little glimpse in to King Steve that he has under wraps too well. He shakes his head and fires up the engine, hands back on the wheel, gripping until his knuckles turn white.

 “Whatever, asshole.”

He drives off and Billy follows behind, watching the red tail lights fade into the dark, disappearing behind a turn. The low purr of the engine fades out and he’s back to counting the scuffs of his feet and the rustle of the trees surrounding him. His blood is singing with regret.

He doesn’t expect Steve to help him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not after what happened at the Byers. It had been almost a month already, since that night he beat the shit out of the guy, terrified Max and her friends and woke up battered and bruised on the floor of some stranger’s house. He had returned home that night to a seething Neil, Max shunning him which, okay, she had a right to that. But Neil saw it as Billy had been acting up again so he needed another lesson in discipline. Tonight, had been a continuation of those lessons.

In school, his bruises and cuts had been easy to excuse away with Steve walking around looking like a nest of wasps had attacked his face. Word of their fight quickly spread and that was that. He half expected Steve to punch his face in in the school corridor. Instead, he had treated him with silence. He never looked at him, never spoke, never reacted to him in any way at all. That had somehow hurt more than Neil’s fists.

He digs his hands in to the pockets of his leather jacket, finger nails scraping at the worn leather and threads deep inside. He knows he’s being an asshole. He knows Steve is just being nice. He hates it.

The truth is, he doesn’t deserve someone like Steve. He doesn’t deserve the sympathy or the kindness. Steve is the belle of the county, the national sweetheart. Billy is scum, he’s nothing but trouble. He burns everything he touches before it can burn him and he runs and doesn’t look back.

He doesn’t want to burn Steve.

And that is fucking terrifying.

And from that night at the Byers, Steve’s been constantly on his mind. He’s seen the looks he send his way when he thinks he’s being subtle. He’s seen the glint in his eyes when Billy stands too close. He watches the way he shudders the rare time they touch, how his eyes flicker down to Billy’s mouth and his cheeks turn that slight bit pink.

Anyone else would miss it all but Billy is tuned in to every shift in Steve’s person, it’s not even funny. From the moment Billy came rolling in to town, the lanky brunette had been on his radar and Billy wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth in.

He keeps walking, chest feeling heavy, throat rough from the smoke and it starts to rain. It’s a soft rain. So soft he needs to tilt his head back to feel it on his cheeks and even then, it is hardly even there. He stumbles a little as he walks and ducks his head back down, squinting ahead as he rounds the bed in the road, kicking stones as he goes.

He falters a little when he sees the familiar tail lights of a car pulled over to the side of the road. Steve’s leaning against the back between them, looking like some ethereal thing in the red neon, his skin cast soft, the red of his jumper glowing. Billy bites his cheeks until they split in an effort not to smile as he nears. It’s fucking pathetic.

Steve looks up at him through his lashes, eyes full of something Billy can’t figure out. There’s a small smirk on his lips and he holds out a joint to Billy, head tilting to the side as if curious as to what he will do. Billy’s teeth dig in until he tastes blood when a strand of dark hair falls out of that signature quiff to fall across one eye.

He takes the joint and walks around to the bonnet, hauling himself on and settling back against the wind screen, the thin metal bending beneath his weight.

 “Thought I got rid of you.”

He tucks the joint between his lips and lights the end, something in his gut jumping when he hears Steve chuckle, feet shuffling against the wet ground as he moves to join Billy. The blonde keeps his head tilted back against the roof, determinedly glaring up at the stars through the corridor of tree tops, body thrumming with the need to look at the brunette.

He takes a drag and holds it while Steve neatly slides up on to the bonnet beside Billy, blowing it out and feeling that knot of tension tighten in his chest when Steve’s body heat ghosts over the tiny space between them to tease at Billy’s side.     

 “Don’t get rid of me that easy, unfortunately.”

His voice is soft, his breath steaming in the cold air. Billy’s chest is full of butterflies at being so close and so alone with Steve. The joint helps. It eases some tension, makes his shoulders relax.

“Unfortunately.”

Billy takes another drag and breathes deep, holding for a moment before blowing out. It’s good shit, pure. He feels himself calm and he doesn’t really think about it when he passes it to Steve, closing his eyes when his fingers brush his, soft and warm.

“Fuck, your hands are cold. “

He chuckles and thumps his head back against the roof, watching the stars swirl and blur above them. He wants to grab that stupid jumper of Steve’s. Wants to bury his dirty, bloody fingers into its soft cashmere and tug it up. He wants to press his hands against Steve’s skin. He knows he would be warm, would feel like fire against his icy touch. He wants to feel Steve’s skin, wants to feel his muscles jump, wants to hear the noises he would make as he felt that ice against him.

He knows Steve is watching him. He pretends he doesn’t notice.

He keeps his eyes on the sky, watching the smoke rise and curl above them, smells the heady scent of the weed, the spice of Steve’s cologne, the brush of his fingers against Billy’s as they pass the joint back and forth.

He can feel Steve pressed against him. When did he move? Or had Billy done it? He doesn’t care. All he knows is that he can feel Steve’s every breath. He can feel his warmth. He can feel the small dig of a bony elbow in to the crease of his own.

Steve is still looking at him. Billy has been here before, plenty times. Steve might not know what he is doing, but Billy does. He knows that if he turns his head, his nose would be just a few centimeters from his own. He knows he would be able to see the dark dilation of his pupils, count the veins in his irises. He knows he would be able to feel his warm breath fan against his mouth and he knows, god he knows it better than his own name, that nothing would stop him from leaning in to taste the smoke on the boy’s tongue.

Instead, he takes the last hit of the joint and flicks it away, watching the sparks of the end spiral through the air as it soars away, going out when it hits the wet ground. He sits up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, booted feet kicked up on the top of the grill and he wants to smile when he hears Steve’s small noise of annoyance at his disregard of his car.

“You going to tell me who got you in this state?”

Billy is surprised by the lack of annoyance he feels this time around. He wants to lie back, wants Steve’s body tucked against his, wants them to lie there all night long, freezing down to their bones. He wants to tell Steve everything, all the poison that has built up inside him for too long. But how can he?

He slides down off the bonnet of the car and shuffles about through the beam of the headlights. Steve stays where he is, watching Billy move in small circles before him, boots scuffing on the gravel. Hands back in his pockets, head tucked down into his chest.

“What about you, King Steve?”

He glances up to him there, watching that pretty face contort in surprise, his head tilt to the side in a way that is almost endearing.

“What about me?”

“I’m not the only one here hiding things.”

He sees the dark circles under the brunette’s eyes. He sees the way his eyes are always shifting around, even in the corridors of the school he’s glancing to exits, jumping at too loud noises. He’s seen the bat he keeps in his trunk, the one that Max used on him. He could get suspended for carrying that thing into school property, yet it’s always with him. He’s even driven by his house some nights when he avoids home, knowing Steve is almost always alone in that big house. When the driveway is bare and it’s just a solitary, lanky shadow wandering from room to room, Billy can see it, because he’s got every light on in the house, curtains drawn, doors and windows bolted shut.

Steve gives a small laugh, the kind of laugh that is supposed to be mocking but comes out sounding too fake, “What have I got to hide?”

Billy can’t help it. He wants to know Steve. He wants to strip all that cashmere and shadow away. He wants Steve to confide in him. He wants to learn him just as much as he craves to be learned.

He shuffles close, knees pressing against the bumper, leaning forwards until the metal digs in to his jeans setting up a slow, small ache in his knees. He leers at Steve, the light of the headlights behind him making both of them hard to see. He takes a moment to look at the way the light shines a gold lining around Steve, eyes calm as he watches him.

“Maybe as much as me,” he says lowly, head swimming with the weed, eyelids heavy as he looks at Steve.

Steve scoffs, giving a quick glance into the trees around them and Billy realizes he’s been doing that all night. He watches the hand resting on the bonnet clench and unclench, like a phantom limb, like he’s used to something being there. Billy wonders if he is itching for that bat of his. He wonders what the hell a guy like Steve Harrington does with a bat like that.

“Got some monsters you’re hiding?” he asks, digging his knees in to the grill of the car and watches Steve’s shoulders stiffen, another glance in to the trees, another clench of his fist.

“You have no idea,” he says in a low voice, full of bitterness.

Billy bites his cheeks again and fights back a scoff. He’s getting frustrated. He surprises himself with just how badly he wants to know this part of Steve. He wants to know about the demons he’s hiding inside. Maybe they could match some of his own. Maybe Billy wasn’t so far beneath him as he always felt.

“Your monsters can’t be anywhere as ugly as me,” he says, fighting the urge to run, not used to this kind of openness. It is alien to him. It has been far too long since he was this truthful with anyone.

Steve scoffs, “trust me, Billy, I’ve met plenty of monsters in my time. You’re not one of them. Not even close.”

Billy wants to punch him. He wants to watch that pretty face that is looking at him so soft crumble. He wants to claw at his own skin, claw at the warmth that has settled over him from those words.

His straightens again, necklace clinking against its chain as he moves. Steve’s eyes are drawn to it. Steve moves then, jerky, slow and pausing then moving slow again, like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might as well be. Billy doesn’t dare do anything as he watches Steve. The brunette slides forward, long ass legs extending, handing off the bonnet and Billy’s heart races when they bracket him in, the insides of Steve’s thighs nudging against the outsides of Billy’s knees. He’s close now, close enough that Billy could count those long eyelashes if he wanted to. He feels his breath fan across his neck.

Something ugly and too familiar twists in Billy’s gut and he leans away, watching Steve’s eyes blink like he’s coming out of a trance and sit up straighter, glancing around in to the trees once more.

“It’s late,” the excuse is lame, even to Billy’s ears, but it’s all he’s got.  

Steve nods, clearing his throat and pushing his body up off the car, tugging the sleeves of that stupid jumper down and looks at Billy side-on, “get in, I’ll give you a lift.”

Billy opens his mouth to refuse but his head is thumping, his lip stinging and exhaustion suddenly washes over his bones. He’s sobering up in the cold air and his body is remembering his injuries.

So he grunts a reply and scuffs his way over to the passenger seat, sliding in and kicking his feet up on the dash as Steve tugs his seat belt on.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Steve quips, but the curve of his words betrays him and Billy smiles into his chest at his sarcasm.

“I’m sure you can afford a valet, King Steve.”

He shakes his head at him but he’s smiling as he turns the wheel and moves off, driving back the way they came.

“Where were you heading anyway?”

Billy didn’t even think to question why Steve would be out at this time at night, alone driving around in the middle of the woods that he is so clearly scared of.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and glances around before replying, fingers twitching on the wheel, “couldn’t sleep, just fancied a drive, I guess. I go up to the Quarry sometimes, it’s quiet up there.”

Billy wants to tease him but his mind is blank. He understands the feeling, that feeling of frustration. What did Harrington have to hide from? What noise was going on his life that he felt the need to get away from? 

They drove on in silence, the low hum of the engine soothing, almost lulling Billy to sleep. He rests his head against the cold of the window and feels the rumble against his skin, watching the trees pass them by.

Steve fiddles with the radio, pushing in a cassette and turning the dial up until a quiet music fills the space. Billy knows the song and it makes him grin and he feels the cut in his lip split wider with it but he doesn’t care.

_“‘Driving in your car, oh, please don't drop me home.’”_

“The Smiths? Really?”

Steve makes a noise of indignation and glances at Billy.

“What? It’s a good song.”

“Should have known you’d be in to that sappy shit.”

“It’s not sappy it’s a classic.”

Billy is fighting the urge to laugh, digs his nails in to his jeans and grins wider, thumping his head back against the headrest of his seat, “they should change your name to Princess, never mind King Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tongues his cheek, “you got to let that shit go, man, you’re the only person that calls me that.”

Billy tries to ignore the swell of pride he feels at that, something that is just his when it comes to Steve Harrington. They fall into a quiet again, driving through the night. Steve sings along softly to the music and Billy’s chest aches as he listens, closing his eyes and leaning in to the sound of Steve’s soft voice.

_"Because its not my home, its their home and I'm welcome no more."  
_

He taps out a steady rhythm of the song against the steering wheel as he sings along under his breath, it’s strange but familiar, like a dream Billy can’t quite remember. He just wants to stay in this car all night. He doesn’t want the sun to come up, wants them to drive through the night, go wherever, just never stop. He wants to always feel the steady rumble of the engine beneath him, hear the soft singing beside him, smell the worn fabric of the seats and the weed that sticks to their clothes.

 _"Take me anywhere, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care."_ _  
_

Before he knows it, they’re rolling in to Billy’s neighborhood and he tells Steve to park a few doors down from his house. At Steve’s confused look he scoffs, “this pile of junk you drive is loud as shit, wake up my old man and there’ll be hell to pay.”

There’s something in his eyes that has Billy panicking for a moment that he’s gave himself away, but it only lingers for a moment before Steve is smiling again, “yeah, yeah, like your Camaro is any better, whole town heard you coming miles away when you first arrived.”

Billy chuckles, kicking his feet off the dash and sitting up, “guys got to make a grand entrance, huh?”

Steve shakes his head at him but he’s still smiling.

Billy gets out, shutting the car door softly behind himself and walks around the bonnet, feeling Steve’s eyes on him all the while. He turns and salutes to the brunette, pulling out another smoke and tucking it between his lips, lighting up and taking a drag.

Steve nods back at his salute and Billy walks off, blowing out the smoke in a whistle, easily copying the melody Steve had just been singing along to. He doesn’t turn around when the headlights move off dousing him in the dark of the night again, he doesn’t look back at the taillights as they disappear. But he lingers at the window to his bedroom until the low and steady rumble of the beamer’s engine is faded and only then does he duck back in to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy Hargrove is the human personification of a wild fire.
> 
> He came tearing in to town, setting fire to anything that got too close, blazing bright and hot and leaving destruction in his wake.

_The street is quiet, only lit by a few street lamps, but still they don’t dare touch._

_Billy can feel the heat coming off him, he’s hyper aware of the body moving along beside his. Their knuckles bump together occasionally, their elbows, their shoulders. He hears the laughter of a group of girls nearby and ducks his head, passing them by as they continue on._

_No one is paying them much mind, he knows they just look like two friends walking along together, nothing suspicious, but still the anxiety threads in is gut like poison._

_They pass a couple with their arms around each other, the girl laughing at something the guy is saying, the two of them sharing a cigarette and Billy tries not to watch but he can’t help it. They pass by and Billy glances back after them, watches the carefree swing of their entwined hands, so close he can’t even tell whose fingers are whose._

_He glances back down and sees those long fingers curl and uncurl at his side. He would give anything to reach out and hold them, thread his own in and stay like that. But they can’t. They both know that. He knows he is thinking the same thing, he glances up into that face and feels his heart ache at the longing mirrored there in those lovely dark eyes._

_Billy shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and they continue on._

 

V

 

Billy Hargrove is the human personification of a wild fire.

He came tearing in to town, setting fire to anything that got too close, blazing bright and hot and leaving destruction in his wake. 

Steve, on the other hand, had always prided himself on being a level-headed guy. Not much got him worked up, he hardly lost his temper, even in a fight he kept his head on straight, knowing his limits, when too far was too far, when to get out when it was nearing that edge. Even during his time as ‘King Steve’ he had remained that way. Sure, he had been a shit to some people but he wasn’t a bully. He knew what was right and wrong.

Nice guy, Steve Harrington; level headed.

Enter: Billy Hargrove.

Hawkins is a small town, Steve knows that, he knows that anyone or anything outside of the town is bigger and better than anything he has known. Billy Hargrove was a challenge, a fucking curse to Steve’s slow town life. The boy came swaggering in with his blonde curls and blue eyes, body wrapped in tight denim and open shirts and something in Steve had shifted. Billy plagued him, jibing on the basketball court, squaring off at parties, eyes glinting in that dangerous way that said to him, come on, King Steve, come out and play.

That part of Steve’s life was decidedly over. He didn’t want trouble, didn’t have the energy for it. He was fighting enough monsters, he didn’t need Billy added to the mix. Billy Hargrove, on the other hand, seemed to want nothing more than to torment him.

Their fight at the Byer’s house had been a turning point for Steve. It had been more than just defending the kids, more than just trying to save Lucas and Max. All Year long, Billy had been goading him, calling for the ‘King Steve’ he was so obsessed with, desperate for Steve to match his colors. The first hit had unlocked something in Steve. Watching the blond writhe on the floor, throw his head back and roar in laughter, even when his own blood stained his lips and teeth.

He had been some wild animal, swinging crazy, screaming and laughing like a maniac. Steve had realized that somewhere in this guy was a rage that had built up too much for to long. He had his suspicions before, watching Billy show up with new bruises and cuts here and there. At first, he chalked it down to the guy fucking about with some girls, until the time he came in with a black eye that really couldn’t have come from any girl Steve knew.

With each hit that rained down upon him, Steve had watched Billy through the haze, saw the rage in his eyes but it was not directed at him. Billy was seeing someone else as he threw down punch after punch, throwing Steve’s face this way and that. He didn’t remember much after that, but the image of those rage filled eyes remained, the look of such hurt and loss and anger haunted Steve for weeks after

His parents had missed the entire thing, surprise, surprise. Mrs Byers and Hopper had patched him up best they could, using all available rainbow plasters they could find. After the entire thing was over, Steve had returned home once more to his empty house, bolting the doors, throwing on all the lights, downing his pain killers and falling in to a sleep close to death.

After Billy had so kindly beat Steve’s face to pulp, Steve thought he would be livid with the guy. Surprisingly, showing up to school the week after everything had went down, face still beat up and rather yellow, Hargrove hadn’t come near him. He wondered if it was Max’s words hitting home. After all the shit with Lucas, Steve had been watching the blond closely from the side-lines. Any time Max or Lucas were even remotely near, he had watched Billy, ready to spring to their defense at any sign of danger. But Billy remained quiet, said nothing, barely even looked at them, just sat in his camero, pulling on a cigarette until Max climbed in, then sped off without a word.

Things after all that seemed to be getting pretty good, pretty normal.

Except, when the cuts had all healed and his face was once more the shape and size it should be, he found himself staring at it in his bathroom mirror, frowning. Not a scar had remained, nothing. Not a single mark that Billy Hargrove had ever touched him remained.

And somewhere along the line, Steve’s eyes started lingering on Billy. He started noticing the way the denim of his jeans wrapped rather nicely around the muscle of his thighs. He noticed how the sun spun his hair gold when he was leaning against the bonnet of his Camaro, smoking and tapping a booted foot along with the music he played. How the sweat drips off him during basketball practice. Or the way he rolls the filter of his cigarette between his thumb and finger. He starts staring, and soon enough Billy must have noticed it.

Then the jabs came back; the quips as they pass in the corridor, the elbowing and the sneers during basketball practice. Soon enough, they’re back to their past rivalry, but this time it lacks conviction. He doesn’t glare in to Billy’s face, watching the hatred shift in his eyes. He sees a mirth in them, his smirk is playful, more teasing. His grin is boyish instead of threatening.

Then, last night, finding Billy wandering in the dark of the night had been the cherry on top.

Steve’s parents were more absent than present in his life. It was a fact. The entire town knew about it. Most kids his age would love to be in his shoes; parents going away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, leaving him the big house with the big pool and the big liquor cabinet. He could do whatever he wanted. He could throw a party every night. He could have any girl he wanted over. He could skip school, stay at home, he answered to no one. He could eat pizza every night and drink himself blind. He had all the freedom in the world. But Steve just felt hollow. He had watched them drive off for the hundredth time, standing on the doorstep, glaring into the trees surrounding him, eyes playing tricks on him as he imagined monsters crawling out, running towards him, teeth-studded petal mouths opening and that awful, awful noise.

He shivered and slammed the door closed, locking it and sprinting to his car, needing to get away, needing to drive, to be moving, to be faster than those things. He had been driving, so immersed in his thoughts that he could have hit Billy If he hadn’t been in the middle of the goddamn road.

The biggest surprise of the night was how goddamn civil Billy was being.

That look just kept playing in his mind over and over again. The rage in his eyes as his fists rained down on the brunette, eyes that weren’t looking at Steve, but at some inner demon. That cold, hollow look on Billy’s face, the look of complete emptiness and despair. Steve wanted to know what kind of person warranted a look like that. What kind of monster did Billy have in his life that invoked such a rage in him, more animal than human?

Then, that moment, when Billy had been standing in front of him. So close, close enough that Steve could feel the heat rolling off him, smell the smoke and cologne on his clothes, count the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

Steve had found himself leaning in to the blond, eyes trained on those lips, wanting to feel if they were as soft as they looked. It hadn’t exactly shocked him. His sexuality was something Steve had figured out long ago; before Nancy, before high school, even. It was something private that he kept to himself, never acted on. But man, did he want to act on it there, under the stars, tucked away in the dark, just him and Billy. But then Billy had shuffled away, cutting the moment short, making his excuse and Steve had let it go.

He had dropped the guy off home, head spinning with how easy it was to get on with the guy when they weren’t trying to punch the daylights out of each other. When Billy had lobed out of his car Steve had felt a pang of longing. Wanting to keep him there a while longer. He had wanted to watch him until he disappeared in to his house but thought that would be creepy, instead turning and driving off, slower than he should. Eyes on the wing mirror that showed Billy, urging the Cali boy to tun around and look back at him. But he never did.

Today, Billy had been absent from school and Steve had tried not to think about it too much. He sat with Nancy and Jonathan at lunch, pushed himself on the basketball court. He was a little thankful Billy wasn’t there distracting him with his leering and jeers and hat stupid tongue of his lolling out his mouth. He remembered to plant his feet, Billy’s low voice in his mind reminding him to do so, and scored enough points that the coach didn’t watch him quite so closely anymore.

When the final bell rang, Steve had breathed a huge sigh of relief, desperate to just get home to the peace and quiet. He had dropped Dustin off, said a quick hello to the kid’s mom and Mews the second, then drove the long way, windows down, cold air chilling him to the bone as the sun set, sky painted orange. He ended up not going home after all, grabbing a quick burger at a diner where some of the cheerleaders from school waitresses at and gave him freebies. He sat in his beamer eating fast then, once the sun had set enough that the sky was a deep purple, going blue, he flared up the engine once more and headed to his spot up at the Quarry. He drove down the same road he had found Billy on last night and felt a sink in his chest to find the road empty as it usually was. He wondered if Billy was sick. Steve had no way of knowing just how long the guy had been wandering out here in the icy Hawkins air. He might have caught a cold or something. He thought about the cuts and bruise that littered the boy’s skin and shivered, rolling up his windows and turning on the heater a little.

He drives on, singing softly along to his music, up the winding, gravel road until finally he arrives, turning in to the spot he usually haunted, far enough from the trees and wide enough that he could park his car close enough to run to should any demodogs make an appearance. You never really did let go of the paranoia about that shit.

But in the space he usually parked was another vehicle, taking up all the goddamn room. He grips the steering wheel tighter when his headlights shine on the car’s side and reflect back an all too familiar blue. He turns in next to it, kills the engine and gets out, the creak of his door sounding too loud in the quiet. He pauses, ears pricked for any sound, eyes still adjusting to the fast descending darkness, illuminated slightly by the beam of his headlights.

“Well, well, well, looks like I’ve gained a stalker.”

Steve jumps, not expecting the noise to come from behind him and sees Billy leaning against the bumper of his beamer, hands deep in the pockets of his worn-out leather jacket, signature smirk on his face.

“Billy, fuck you scared the shit out of me.”

Billy chuckles and pushes himself off the bonnet, scuffing forwards to join Steve at the edge of the outcrop. He’s got a bottle of some kind of bourbon in his hand and takes a pull of it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, princess, it’s just your good, old friendly neighbor Billy.”

Steve rolls his eyes, tugging the opening of his jacket closed and joining Billy when he sat on the grass, looking down into the inky, black water below them. The blond tugs a crumpled carton of smokes out of his pocket and lights one. He blows out the smoke over the edge of the outcrop and holds the pack out to Steve who gladly takes one, suddenly needing something to do with his hands.

They smoke in silence and Steve wants to laugh. If someone had told him just a month ago that he would be here, sitting by the Quarry under the stars, sharing a pack of reds with none other than Billy fucking Hargrove, he would have told you to fuck right off.

“What brings you out here on this cold as shit night?”

He tongues at the filter and shifts where he sits, the cold of the ground seeping through his jeans, “I could ask you the same question, you weren’t in school today, thought you were sick or something.”

Billy clicks his tongue against his teeth and blows smoke out his nose, “you worrying about me, King Steve?”

It doesn’t escape Steve how easily he avoids the question.

“Jesus, you’re still on that crap? Seriously, man, no one calls me that anymore.”

“That’s because I usurped your throne.”

Steve scoffs, flicking his thumb against the filter and leaning back to look up at the stars, “not much of a throne, despite what you seem to think, I was never a very good ‘King’.”

Billy smokes to the filter then flicks the end over the edge, watching the red ember drift its way sound to the water, “I don’t know, I’ve been asking around about you, apparently you were quite the shit back in your hey days.”

Billy had been asking about him? What was this guy’s deal? Was his life’s entire purpose just to mess with Steve?

“Oh yeah? What have you heard?”

The blond takes another drink of the bourbon and hands the bottle to Steve, then thumps back on the ground, spreading his body out and tucking his arms behind his head, looking up at the stars, “well, Tommy told me you broke that Byers guy’s camera last year.”

Steve gives a heavy sigh, flicking his own filter over the edge the takes a drink of the booze. It tastes like cheap shit but it burns his throat and warms his belly. He leans forwards, resting his elbows on his bent knees and scrubs hand across his face, old guilt welling up inside him.

“Yeah, I broke his camera because he was pretty much perving on my girlfriend and I at the time. Besides, I bought him a new one.”

“I also heard you got in a fight with him.”

Steve felt himself getting antsy. He didn’t like talking about that shit anymore, not when he considered himself almost friends with the guy.

“Yeah, well, you’d want to punch the guy you saw alone with your girlfriend in her bedroom the night before.”

Billy is quiet for a while and Steve throws a look at him over his shoulder. He looks up at him, eyebrows raised, head tilted to the side, the silvery light of the moon casting his skin soft. Steve grits his teeth at that expression.

“Look, I’m not perfect, I was an asshole back then, I know that, but I’m trying to be better.”

More silence and Steve just wants to run. He wants to just get away from all this. Why is he even here explaining himself to this asshole? This was the guy that beat the holy shit out of his face just a few weeks ago – not an apology or anything about it. He grits his teeth and is about to stand and leave Billy lying there when the Cali boy speaks.

Billy rises up on one elbow, takes the bottle out of Steve’s hold and takes a long swig, avoiding his eyes. He passes it back and lays back down again. Speaking after a few moments of silence.

“You’re not an asshole, Harington, you just hung out with the wrong people. Tommy, the stupid piece of shit.”

“Look who I’m hanging out with now; you think you’re a better influence?”

He gives a short laugh, but its bitter and twists Steve’s stomach. He takes another drink of the cheap bourbon an feels it in his blood, in his bones.

They sit in silence for a time. Steve closes his eyes, listens to Billy’s breathing, slow and steady. He feels calm here, in the woods, in the dark, a situation that would terrify him usually but here, with Billy he feels safe. He wants to lie back, roll in to Billy’s side. He wants to feel the warmth of his body against his like the night before. He wants to smell Billy’s cologne, feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the soft brush of his curls.

Instead, he lies back, close enough that he can feel the leather of Billy’s jacket against his arm, but not close enough to feel his heat. The bottle lies half empty and abandoned between them. He lies and listens to the steady breathing of his unlikely companion. Its like to roll and crash of the waves on the beach he’s only seen on the tv. He can picture Billy there; in among the waves, sitting astride a surfboard, sun turning his hair gold, eyes shining brighter than the blue he’s surrounded by. He wonders what Billy was like in California. Was he always this angry, messed up boy he has presented to Hawkins? Was he happier then? Did he smile? Did he laugh? Did he have friends he surfed with, girls he kissed under the pier? Did he have those demons then? Or was it all Hawkins that had ruined him?

“Do you miss it? Cali?”

Steve’s not sure if Billy is going to answer, he’s quiet for so long. The brunette stares up at the stars and tries to count them.

“You have no idea.”

He almost jumps at the reply, despite Billy’s soft voice.

“What do you miss most?”

“This some chick flick scene you’re acting out right now, Harrington?”

“Fuck you, I was just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

Steve grits his teeth. Billy Hargrove is an enigma. One minute he is bashing your face in, then the next he’s teasing you for your taste in music, then he’s spitting fire at you. Steve can’t work him out.

“Asshole.”

He sits back up, the cold night air chilling him again and the bourbon turned sour in his stomach. He isn’t sure what he expected of this. Did he think he and Billy would be friends from here on out? He admits some small part of him hoped for that. In the weeks following their fight, something had changed in Steve regarding Billy and he had foolishly thought the same had been for Billy. But Billy Hargrove was a wildfire. He burned fast and reckless and mercilessly. He didn’t give a shit about Steve. He didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. He just smoked and drank and drove too fast and fought his way through life. Steve was a fool to think he would change any of that.  

“You not got anywhere better to be, pretty boy?”

Steve sighs, glaring down at the inky water, mood turned cold with Billy’s words.

“Only so much a guy can do in an empty house.”

He hears Billy scoff and he knows, he must know about Steve’s parents. Everyone knows. He’s not even sure why he wants Billy to know so much. The poison in him, the secrets, its all building up and Steve feels like he needs to explode, to let it all out, to tell someone not involved how fucked everything is. He wants Billy to know. Something in him that he can’t explain wants Billy to know him. The same way he wants to know Billy.

“Princess not got everything she wants in her fine castle?”

Steve could punch him, he really could. Why had he been so good last night and now was back to his old asshole ways? What was this guy’s deal?

“Why are you always such an ass?”

He looks at the blond over his shoulder and is met with a cold, hard stare. His jaw is set and he looks nothing like the smiling, likable guy he had met just last night.

“Just when I think you’re not the worst person in the world you go and pull this shit?”

Billy snorts, pushing himself up to sit, avoiding Steve’s gaze as he grabs the bottle and takes a long drink, face scrunching up at the taste.

“Why do you give a fuck about anything I say or do?”

“I guess I don’t.”

Steve’s blood is boiling. He wants to leave, wants to storm out and leave this guy in the dark. But whatever it is, whatever strange pull this asshole has keeps Steve sitting there, fists clenched.

“Whatever.”

Steve grits his teeth until it hurts as Billy stumbles to his feet, grabbing the nearly empty bottle and shuffles off. Steve knows he should stop him. He’s probably not drunk but he’s stumbling enough to know he shouldn’t drive. But Steve’s learned his lesson, Billy Hargrove doesn’t care bout anything or anyone, so why should Steve do him the favor?

The camaro roars to life and Billy thunders off, wheels spitting dust and rocks in his wake. Steve sits there until the red of the taillights fade, the rumble of the engine is no more. He pulls out his cigarettes and smokes a few, one after the other, glaring in to the darkness, daring those things to make an appearance. Almost wanting it, craving a fight.  

When the first signs of light show over the tree tops, he leaves, heart heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! 
> 
> I just want to say a thank you for the love on this story so far, i'm feeling good about this one, trying to do it well so please keep up the support and let me know what you all think!
> 
> This chapter is a look at Steve this time, post fight with Billy and introducing his sexuality (as is in my theory) and his feelings regarding Billy. It is also a look at Billy and his unpredictable nature, especially regarding personal feelings. Though the chapter is from Steve's perspective, i tried to paint Billy as someone struggling with a new friendship with Steve that involves opening up, being honest and sensitive and not something Billy is used to. So, as a coping mechanism - as we see in the show with Max, Steve and even Neal - Billy tends to act unpredictable, lash out, change the subject and come across as an all around asshole.  
> The chapter opens with another flashback to his life in Cali, showing him with his boyfriend at the time, facing racial abuse and homophibia and a small peek at the struggles they might have had and the feelings those stuggles invoked. This is intended to contrast with the present day part of the chapter as i wanted to show a Billy who was softer and hopeful, allowing himself to feel emotional, then present day after he has been through shit (shit explained further in the story) he as built up walls that Steve struggles to understand and get past.  
> Next chapter i will be developing the relationship much further, introducing more of Billy's past with Neal, his feelings for Steve and more!  
> Thank you again, so much for reading! Please leave comments if you feel like it, they always make my day! 
> 
> V


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes another swig of his beer and leans back against the wall and regards Billy with a look of disinterest that has Billy’s blood singing. He quirks a brow at Tommy’s slurred out words but his eyes stay locked with Billy’s and Billy feels something curl in his gut.  
> Billy’s stood there, shirt open, skin wet with beer and sweat, leering at the brunette. He knows he looks good, knows that surrounded by these small-town kids he looks like a golden god. He knows and Steve looks like he couldn’t be less interested, and billy wants to sink his teeth in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic descriptions of physical abuse!
> 
> This chapter opens with a look at the relationship between Neal and Billy before he marries Susan, just when Max is brought in to Billy's life and the possible beginning of a more violent Neal. I briefly hint at Billy's mother, a factor i will go in to deeper throughout this story.  
> I use a line that Billy uses in the fight scene between he and Steve, where he says to Max "You disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me. I break things."  
> This line really stuck with me while watching the show, not just because of its implication but because it seemed to me - despite Billy's character being the human villain of the season - an odd thing for Billy to say. It didn't feel like it was Billy speaking. It felt, to me at least, that suddenly it was Neal speaking. In abusive situations, particularly parent/child, when the child grows and develops an abusive nature they tend to reflect their abusers. I felt that was what was happening then, Billy was fueled by his father in this scene, driven by the anger in the aftermath of his abuse and in a way became him. That is the reasoning for the repeated line from the show.  
> The rest of the fic continues in the party dynamic used in lots of Steve/Billy fics that i think is most fitting for these two. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Thank you for reading, commenting ect 
> 
> Vee

> _He’s been out all night with Susan; the new girlfriend who comes with a child of her own. He was sober when he came back from his date. By the time Billy returns home and Susan and her brat have evacuated to their own home, Neil is drunk, and he’s been waiting for Billy._

_“I told you to stay in the house and look after Maxine. Instead I find out you dumped her at some arcade while you went off and paraded yourself around like some goddamn whore.”_

_“I was just out on the pier with some friends -”_

_“- Don’t interrupt me.”_

_He is livid. His eyes glassy and wild. He’s not drunk enough to stumble, just enough that his blood is up. He stalks Billy through the house. The lights are dim and the shadows shift over his face, casting him like a demon. Billy has seen his anger before, but not like this. Not for a while. Not since the night his mom left._

_I gave you an order and I expect you to obey it. When I tell you to look after your sister you do it. Am I understood?”_

_Billy backs up in to his room. Neil follows him there. He watches his hands, expects them to move to his belt, like usual. Expects to watch them undo the strap, pull it lose of the loops, fold it in his grasp. He expects the cut of the leather in to his skin. He expects the bite of the silver buckle against his back, the backs of his knees, expects it because he’s been subjected to it countless times before._

_“She’s not my sister. I’m not sitting around babysitting some kid so you can go out and get your rocks off with -”_

_What Billy isn’t expecting is his fists. The pain is blinding. Billy feels his head spin, his entire body moves with the force, knocking him against the wall, sliding to the floor. Blood bursts from his nose. It soaks the front of his shirt, drips down his chest where he is bare. It fills his mouth, sickening him to his core at the copper taste._

_“You need to learn some discipline. How to be a man.”_

_Neil towers over him, glaring down and Billy tries to sit up, tries to stench the flow of blood, tries to clear his vision from the pain that flares across his face. Neil leans down, spitting into his face, voice a low, dangerous growl._

_“You know what happens when you disobey me.”_

_Fingers thread into his curls, tugging his head up, forcing his eyes to meet his father’s._

_“I break things.”_

_He throws Billy to the floor once more and a booted foot connects with Billy’s stomach. He doubles over, coughing and spluttering and trying to breathe. Pain flares everywhere, his stomach contorts and seizes against the blow, bile rising in his throat, windpipe choked against the assault. Another kick, this time to the ribs and he groans, curling in on himself, arms wrapping around his torso, a feeble attempt at protection._

_“Respect and responsibility. You remember this lesson. You do not disrespect me. You do not disrespect Susan. You forget about your whore of a mother. And you obey me. If I tell you to look after Max, you drop everything you are doing to look after her. She has potential, unlike the worthless piece of shit son I have. When I marry Susan, you will be the good son and keep your mouth shut. You will behave, or I will have to teach you more lessons like this one. Am I understood?”_

_Billy grits his teeth, his vision blurred with tears and he feels like he might vomit. Anger surges through him hot and real and alive and he curls his fists. He can barely move, he can’t make a sound. He manages a nod, slumped against the wall._

_Neil nods, eyes still full of fire and straightens. He turns, stepping over Billy and pauses at the door, hand on the handle._

_“Clean yourself up, and stay out of my sight.”_

_He slams the door shut and Billy remains motionless until he hears him walk away. He lies there in the dark, gasping for breath, swallowing blood, body thrumming in pain. He squeezes his eyes shut and refuses to let himself cry._

 

 

V

 

 

Billy knows girls. He likes girls. He likes their softness, their curves. He likes the floral smell of them as he passes them in the school corridors. He likes their long hair and pretty faces. He’ll kiss a girl, he’ll fuck a girl. But that’ about as far as his feelings go on the subject.  

But boys. Boys got his heart racing, his blood pumping. With boys, he felt butterflies and anticipation and excitement. When he kissed a boy, his world went on fire. He felt alive, like he suddenly understood all the sappy love books and poems and songs.  But with boys, he had to hide what he felt. He was always so scared and unsure. Terrified that word would find its way back to his father.

One boy, in particular caught his attention. But that part of himself was shut away under lock and key, and Billy would be damned if he let it out even for a second.

The party is loud, there’s too many people crammed into the suburban house. The parties in this town were nothing compared to the like in Cali, but Billy made do with what he had. Being in a small town had its benefits; primarily being the one small school that housed plenty teens that dreamed of life out of their tiny town and something as exotic as Billy was a huge attention grabber. He had made it his mission to come out on top, make this tiny town his bitch, own it instead of letting it own him.

It had been surprisingly easy. A few asks around and Steve Harington’s name was mentioned to him left right and centre as the King of the school and Billy grinned at the challenge. Knowing it would be easy as dick to knock this ‘King Steve’ off his pedestal.

That was, until he got a look at the guy, and Billy was frozen. Harington was a dream; all perfect hair, pretty face, rich parents in the rich house, the kind of guy that could get any girl he wanted. The kind of guy that looked good doing anything. The kind of guy that never had to fight for anything in his life. The kind of guy that Billy wanted to _wreck_.

Now, after all the shit, all the fighting and screaming and blinding anger that had kept Billy running though the move, through this shitty town, through every hit from his father, he was running on empty.

Since the night at the Quarry, Billy had been avoiding Harington like the plague. Steve in turn, didn’t seem like he had wanted anything to do with him. If they passed in the corridor, he kept his eyes stubbornly on the ground. If ever Billy had to drop Max off at one of her stupid club meetings with her gang of losers, Billy was either deliberately early or late in the hopes of avoiding sight of the all too familiar Beamer. If Max noticed anything, she didn’t say.

Almost a week had passed since that night.

Tonight, Billy is buzzed and enjoying himself. He’s got the entire party surrounding him as he kicks down from the keg stand to roars of his name. He throws his head back and spits out his last mouthful of beer, letting it spray down on them like rain. He feels it fall and soak his chest; seeping through the shirt he’s wearing, buttoned up to his navel. The crowd cheers and he’s getting slapped on the back and he snatches a cigarette out of Tommy’s hand and takes a long drag.

Tommy’s stumbling by his side, pulling Billy through the throng of people, shouting and laughing like the idiot he is, half cut and stupid. He drags Billy blind through the crowd and comes to a stop in the kitchen. Tommy shifts and Billy’s stomach drops when he finds Steve fucking Harrington standing against the wall before him, beer in one hand, the other hooked though a belt loop. He looks fucking good and Billy can’t look away.

“Forty-eight seconds on the keg stand, all round new record, how about that, King Steve?”

Steve takes another swig of his beer and leans back against the wall and regards Billy with a look of disinterest that has Billy’s blood singing. He quirks a brow at Tommy’s slurred out words but his eyes stay locked with Billy’s and Billy feels something curl in his gut.

Billy’s stood there, shirt open, skin wet with beer and sweat, leering at the brunette. He knows he looks good, knows that surrounded by these small-town kids he looks like a golden god. He knows and Steve looks like he couldn’t be less interested, and billy wants to sink his teeth in.  

Tommy leans over his shoulder, slurring something at Steve and Billy gives him an annoyed glance before shrugging him off, straightening his shirt and keeping his eyes on Steve.

Steve looks like couldn’t care less, not about the keg stand, not about this party, the teens surrounding them, but Billy catches his eyes glance down at a bead of sweat rolling down Billy’s neck. Billy feels his eyes, heavy on him as they follow its path, making its way down Billy’s chest, rolling over his skin, through the contours of his chest, rolling with his muscles down to his navel. He’s a little drunk and Steve is staring and he can’t seem to stop.

Billy leans in to him and he can smell him, all cigarettes and expensive cologne and beer and that something that has Billy wanting to bury his face in his neck and breathe deep. Billy shifts his weight from foot to foot and feels his necklace slide across his chest and watches Steve’s eyes catch the movement. His cheeks are slightly pink, his eyes hooded and to everyone else it might look like they are just staring each other down, deciding whether to fight or flee. To anyone that cares to look, there’s nothing much to see. But Billy reads the look in those lovely deep eyes, knows that look, he’s seen it before. It sends shivers down his spine and screams at him to ignore that rule he has the rule that tells him to ignore those looks.

He leans just slightly closer, watches Steve exhale slowly, breath fanning over Billy’s exposed skin and Billy grins, slides his eyes over Steve’s body and bites his tongue.

“See something you like, Harington?” His voice is a low purr, just for Steve to hear.

Steve smirks, ducking his head and doesn’t move away when Billy moves closer, turns to lean against the wall beside him, shoulders bumping against his, fingers brushing against his hand. He lingers for a second longer than he should then he moves away and Steve’s hand twitches. 

“Maybe.”

Tommy and his lot aren’t paying attention anymore, everyone still wrapped up in the party but Billy’s got all his attention the boy next to him. He’s getting antsy and wants out of this crowd, wants to walk in to the night and wants Steve to follow him.

“Want to bum a smoke?”

He’s surprised at the offer. He watches Steve look around the party, eyes glazing over all the drunken noise. There’s something in that, something in the way he said it that implies something else. Billy nods and knows Steve can see it out the corner of his eye. The guy gives Billy a curt nod, then turns, letting Billy follow him through the throng of people.

The back garden is tiny, boasting nothing but a run-down shed and a broken table and as a result its completely deserted. Billy shuts the door behind them and he leans against the wall. Steve tugs the crumbled carton of cigarettes out his pocket and slips one between his lips. Billy scuffs his boots on the ground as he comes near, standing before Steve, closer than he should and Steve holds the carton out to him.

Billy glances at it then chuckles, plucking the cigarette out of Steve’s mouth instead, winking before tucking it between his own lips.

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs before pulling out another one from the carton. He fishes his zippo out and flips it, leaning forward to light his smoke. Billy leans forward too, the end of his cigarette bumping with Steve’s in the flame.

When he clicks the lighter shut and takes a drag, Billy doesn’t move away. 

He takes another long drag and bumps his head back against the wall behind him, watching how Steve’s cheeks hollow as he smokes, the way the smoke hangs in the air around them. His eyes are brown but look black in the dark, he’s never really noticed it before.

“You never heard of personal space, blondie?”

Billy barks a laugh, cigarette between his teeth as he grins, tonguing at the filter before taking another drag, he holds it between his fingers and tongues his cheek.

“Blondie, huh, that’s a new one.”

Steve raises a hand to tug at the end of a curl that falls down to Billy’s collarbone, the blonde’s nostrils flaring as he does. He pulls the strand taught, letting it slide between thumb and finger before releasing it, watching it spring back in to a curl.

“It suits you, don’t you think?”

Billy crushes his cigarette beneath his boot and braces a hand on the wall by Steve’s head. He’s drunk enough to think this is a good idea, drunk enough to read the signs Steve is sending his way. Drunk enough to take a little risk.

“Don’t think I like it,” he growls, eyes on Steve’s every move as the brunette flicks away his own cigarette.

“Sorry my nicknames aren’t to your taste, William.”

Billy’s jaw clenches at that one, and he breathes in through his nose, chest rising with it, necklace sliding across his skin.

“Don’t call me that, Harrington.”

Steve licks his lips, Billy’s eyes drop to them and stay there.

“What? William? Don’t like that one either?”

Billy’s knees feel weak, his head swimming, his eyes won’t stop dragging all over the guy.

“No one gets to call me that.”

His voice is low, husky, he leans closer and can almost taste the smoke on Steve’s tongue.

“Tough shit, _William._ ”

Billy leans closer, forearm resting flat against the wall now, face inches from his, eyes hooded. Heat curls in his bones, head swimming with drink and Steve.

“Stop.”

Steve seems to give him a once over, eyes flitting here and there before settling on his blue irises. He cocks his head to the side, a small, sly smile on those lips and Billy feels his nerves tingle in anticipation.

“Make me.”

Billy’s not sure who moves first. One moment they are breathing right in each other’s space, eyes daring, challenging each other. The next thing he knows, he’s got his hands on Steve’s waist and his mouth presses against his in a fierce kiss. Steve makes a small noise against his mouth, halfway between a moan and a sigh and it resonates through Billy, surges him on. He presses Steve back against the wall, feeling the cold scrape of it against his knuckles where he’s got his arms wrapped around the brunette’s waist.

Steve’s hands seem to falter, not sure where to go. Billy tilts his head, deepening the kiss. He licks along Steve’s bottom lip and the boy gasps in to his mouth, hands gripping on to his shoulders when he licks in to his mouth. He slides their tongues together and Steve actually moans. It sends jolts of electricity all through Billy’s body, has his head spinning and he’s only grounded a little when Steve’s fingers find their way in to his curls, tangling and tugging in them.

Steve tastes like beer and smoke, he tastes salty and sweet, he tastes like something Billy can’t place but wants more and more and more. His hands hold his body close, roaming, tugging up the fabric until he can feel the soft, hot skin of Steve’s back and it’s better than he ever imagined. Steve shivers against his touch and keens in to him, hips rolling involuntarily and he moans in to Billy’s mouth, breathy and real when he feels him semi hard in too tight jeans.  

The kiss is the hottest goddamn thing Billy has experienced in a long time and that alone should terrify him but he’s addicted, addicted to the slide of Steve’s soft lips against his, the taste of his tongue, the breathy sounds he makes. He’s addicted to the tug of his fingers in his hair, how good it feels to have his body against his, how well he fits there.

He gets a leg between Steve’s and grinds against his thigh. Billy comes up for air only to get his mouth on Steve’s throat, biting and sucking and Steve tilts his head back, breathing hard up to the night sky. Billy licks the salt from his skin and wants to bite until he bruises, wants him to leave marks, wants to watch Steve walk through the school corridors wearing bruises the shape of Billy’s mouth.

“Feels like you don’t mind the nickname all that much after all, _William_ ,” Steve breathes out.

Billy actually does bite down then, hearing Steve call him by that name is doing things to him. He bites on the place where Steve’s neck joins his shoulder and sucks, growling with Steve’s skin between his teeth, and his hands grab Steve’s ass, grinding against him like his life depends on it.

_“Fuck-”_

 “Again – say it again.”

His voice is a growl against his skin, thick with arousal. Steve digs his nails in to the skin at the back of his neck, grinning at the shiver he elicits from the blond.

“William-”

Billy surges up and kisses Steve again, fingers fumbling with the front of Steve’s shirt, resorting to ripping it open with a growl and then he’s pressed skin on skin against him and Billy thinks he might just pass out it feels so fucking good.

“Want you,” he moans in to Billy’s ear before biting his ear lobe, “fuck – I want you bad.”

Then suddenly he’s gone.

Steve opens his eyes and he’s alone, the slam of the backdoor beside him the only signal of Billy’s exit.

 

 

V

 

 

Billy walks fast, boots thudding against the wet road. He ducks his head against the light spit of rain and keeps going. He walks, walks until the noise from the party fades, until the houses disappear, until the trees surround him and the Quarry water reflects him back in its inky, black depths.

The cold of the night air helps sober him up. He drags it in to his lungs, holds I until it burns. He paces by the outcrop, breath misting in the night air before him.

He can’t get rid of the smell of Steve on his clothes. He can’t get rid of the feeling of his skin, his body in his arms. He can’t get rid of the taste of him in his mouth.

His body thrums with arousal, his blood singing, rushing through his veins, coursing with adrenaline. He tugs his smokes out his pocket and lights one, smoking it fast, until it burns his lungs and he’s nearly choking.

He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have let go like that.

It shouldn’t have been so easy.

He had promised himself, from the moment he stepped foot in this miserable spit of a town, that he would bury everything he once was. It was easier that way. It kept Neil from watching too close. It kept everyone out of his business. It meant that no one got in, no one would get hurt, that he wouldn’t get hurt. This way, he could live a normal life.

It would only be one more year. One more year and he would be eighteen, he would be able to leave. He could climb in his camaro, leave this town in the dust and never look back.

But Harrington just had to be so goddamn irresistible.

He sits, legs hooked over the edge of the outcrop, dangling in the air far above the water. He smokes his entire packet but stays there a while longer.

He falls back, lays on the ground, feeling the cold seep in to his bones, freezing his very blood. He stares up at the stars. There’s so many here, more than he ever saw in Cali. There was too much light there, that’s one thing he will admit he prefers about Hawkins. Its dark, private, personal. He can count the stars and be there for hours, always missing a few.

His hands rest at his sides, pulling at the grass, nails digging in to the dirt. 

He wonders how many times Steve comes here. He wonders if he missed him the past few nights he hadn’t come here. He wonders how he’s going to avoid the brunette now.

He thumbs at the ring around his middle finger, thinking of the person it belonged to.He closes his eyes and where he used to see familiar brown eyes, a smile, the face is different. The skin is paler, the eyes a more golden hue, the hair a ridiculous mess of feathery brown. He allows himself this one more indulgence. He allows himself to remember the feeling of the boy in his arms, against his mouth, breathing his name into his ear.

He lays there and remembers, then, when the sun threatens to spill over the horizon, he leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mom of the year again tonight, Harrington?”  
> His voice is monotonous. His stance closed off and distant, as if the weeks since their fight had never happened. Steve takes another pull of his cigarette and blows the smoke out in a sigh, feeling deja vous wash over him.  
> He scoffs “so, I’m Harrington again?”  
> He watches Billy’s fingers drum on the roof of the car, his jaw clench.  
> “That’s you name, isn’t it?”

_He sighs as he runs his fingers over the veins of his arms, tracing them with his fingertips, following their path as they roam up to his shoulders, to his neck. Billy presses a kiss to his pulse, listens to the soft noises he makes when his tongue snakes out, licking the salt from his skin._

_He presses inside Billy, a slow and steady drag until he is seated deep inside him. He lingers there, like he’s moulding Billy’s insides to his image. Billy trembles in his arms, fingers pressing into his skin, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling in the space between their mouths._

_Billy nods when he feels the pain subside, urges him to move, the slow and steady ache already building in his gut. He pulls out slowly, a torturous drag, then pushes into him again. It has Billy throwing his head back, gasping out as he feels him press against a place inside him that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He feels drunk on this, he’s never felt anything like this before._

_He leans down, kisses Billy sound, kisses him as he moves faster, deeper, moans against his lips. He drags a hand down Billy’s chest, takes him in hand and begins to stroke him in time with his thrusts. It is all Billy can do but hold on, the moans and sighs escaping him readily, feeling consumed by him, by these wonderful sensations._

_Because it feels so goddamn good, so right. The slide of their skin on skin, the panting in his ear, the taste of him on his tongue. The feeling of him moving inside him, breathing hot and heavy in to his mouth as Billy trembles and laces their hands together, pressing them against his hip as he rolls them, feeling him pressed deep inside him, against that part that has his legs shaking and a low grown escaping him._

_He presses their bodies together, burying his face in Billy’s neck and picks up his pace. Billy’ vision is blurred, his hands and legs are wrapped so completely around him, the rich russet of his skin against Billy’s gold melting together to form a blur of colour Billy wants to paint his world with._

_They each climb and climb until they reach their completion, Billy painting his skin with white, trembling in his embrace. He holds him after, whispering sweet things in his ear, kissing his curls, the ring on his middle finger cool against Billy’s heated skin._

_Billy smiles as they lie there. In this moment, he’s happy. Real and truly happy._

_He looks in to those mahogany eyes, seeing small glints of amber in them, watches the edges crinkle with his smile. He presses a kiss to his nose, trailing circles down his arm. He marvels at the contours of his body. He’s so completely different from a girl. His body is lean and long, he towers over Billy when they stand together on the beach. His hands are big and always so warm, swamping Billy’s waist when he holds him. His chest is flat, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow. Muscles from endless hours of surfing roll like the ocean’s waves beneath his skin. He’s the most beautiful thing Billy has ever known._

_Billy drifts off, warm and content, safe in his embrace._

_V_

 

 

“Steve, you know where the medicines are, right?”

“Joyce, hun, come on, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

Steve follows Mrs Byers through the Livingroom to the kitchen, helping her shrug her coat on as she goes. She fusses with Will’s hair for a moment, eyes darting around the room, trying to makes sure she hasn’t forgotten anything.

“Yes, they’re in the bathroom cabinet, along with the Tylenol and aspirin.”

She pats at her hair, nodding at his words and starts to button up her coat, missing the first two buttons.

“Okay, good, and the number for the restaurant is by the phone and there’s some cash on the kitchen counter for pizza or anything you kids want.”

“Joyce, come on, this isn’t the kid’s first rodeo, stop worrying.”

Will follows her back into the living room, quietly unbuttoning her coat and righting it. She’s looking around for her purse, forgetting that she had handed it to Hopper while she put her shoes on. Will rolls his eyes at her fondly, retrieving it from Hopper’s hand where he waits in the doorway, ruffling El’s hair in a fond goodbye.

The youngest Byers re-appears at his mother’s side, pushing the purse in to her hand and earning a relieved smile and a kiss to the top of his head.

“Don’t worry, I know, Mrs Byers, I got it all covered.”

She smiles at him, “I know, sweetie, I know,” she says, relieved, touching Steve’s cheek softly in a motherly way that is foreign to Steve, but welcome. She looks around her again, making sure once more all is in order before making her way to Hopper where he’s only got one foot still in the house at this point.

She smiles apologetically at him and hurries out, Hopper following close behind.

“You kids behave, listen to Steve and don’t stay up too late. And don’t let El eat too many Eggos.”

Will giggles by Steve’s side as they watch them go, amused by his mother’s frantic nature. He re-joins the gabble of kids that are sat on the floor before the TV, squabbling already even though they are literally five minutes through the door.

Steve waves Hopper and Joyce off from the front door, cheek still tingling from her touch as he watches the tail lights of Hopper’s truck fade and closes the door behind them.

Tonight was Mrs Byers and Hopper’s first date night in weeks. Every week or so, Mrs Byers invites the gang over for dinner (usually take out after Nancy had been selected to politely explain that the food made was not very edible – how someone makes potatoes watery Steve had no idea.)

Tonight also just so happened to be the one month anniversary of Nancy and Jonathan’s first date or whatever so the role of babysitting – which usually took him, Jonathan and Nancy – was solely on Steve’s shoulders tonight. Lucky him.

It’s been three days since the night at the party. After Billy left, Steve had stayed put, breathing hard against the wall, trying to figure out what the hell had went wrong. Upon returning to the party, Billy had been nowhere to be found. A quick word from a drunken Tommy had confirmed that Billy had gone straight out the front door without a word.

Steve had left soon after, giving excuses of being tired to Nancy who had implored him to stay with her and Johnathan but with Billy gone, the party suddenly lost all of its interest. He had driven home, windows down, cold Hawkins air chilling him to his bones, trying to get rid of that smell of Billy that stayed on him.

He had returned to his empty house, locked all the doors, switched on all the lights and lay in his bed, glaring at the celling, running the kiss over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Billy had seemed in to it. More than that, the way he had kissed Steve, how he had held him, moaned for him, popped a fucking boner for him for fuck’s sake. Sure, they both had been drinking but not enough for it to be some drunken, stupid thing.

Steve presses a finger against the mark on his neck, the only real piece of proof that what had happened had happened and wasn’t some fantasy. It was faded now but still there, the kiss plays in his mind over and over again. All he can think about is the press of those soft lips, the taste of his mouth, the feeling of soft curls wrapped around his fingers.

He isn’t sure if its just because it had been his first kiss with a guy. Maybe it was just the alcohol. Maybe it was just because Steve had been dreaming about it for months. Since Billy rolled in to town. Or maybe it was just because he had been wanting to kiss a boy since he was twelve and staring at a picture of a shirtless James Dean. Whatever the reason, kissing Billy could have easily become his favourite thing. It had his head spinning and his blood catching fire in his veins. He felt drunk and high and he couldn’t get enough. It never felt like that before. This good. Not with Nancy or any other girl he had ever been with. No one had made him feel so _alive._

He turns to shut the door but pauses when a set of headlights and the signature growl of an all too familiar engine reach him. He watches the lights roll closer and closer, stomach jumping, blood rushing. He pulls out his reds from his pocket, lighting one and taking a long drag, blowing out the smoke, feeling a little calmer, a little more grounded.

The car rolls to a stop, the lights shining right in to the house, lighting Steve up. He can’t see past them, not at the driver, not at the car door as he hears it open. Max throws it shut behind her, suddenly passing in front of the lights, her hair glowing like fire. She grins at him, rushing forwards to the house, all excitement to see her friends.

 “Hi Steve! By Steve!”

“Hey, kiddo.”

He watches Max disappear in to the house, the sounds of the gang greeting her reaching him as he takes another drag of his smoke. Billy hasn’t drove off yet. The engine dies, the lights with them, and suddenly he can see Billy. He watches him, heart in his throat as he kicks open the door, getting out just to rest his elbow on the roof, not coming any closer.

“Mom of the year again tonight, Harrington?”

His voice is monotonous. His stance closed off and distant, as if the weeks since their fight had never happened. Steve takes another pull of his cigarette and blows the smoke out in a sigh, feeling deja vous wash over him.

He scoffs “so, I’m Harrington again?”

He watches Billy’s fingers drum on the roof of the car, his jaw clench.

“That’s you name, isn’t it?”

Steve grits his teeth, crushing the spent cigarette beneath his shoe and climbs down the porch, shoving his hands in his jean jacket pockets. He pauses just short of the bonnet of the camaro, Billy just watching him with those cold, dead eyes.

“Look, about the other night-”

“-Forget the other night.”

Steve stares at him, watching those blue eyes shift around, glance at him then away. He watches Billy’s fist clench, watches the strain in the boy’s jaw as he grits his teeth.

“So, what? You’re going to just pretend it never happened? Go back to bashing my face in?”

Billy huffs out an annoyed breath and grits his teeth, looking at Steve like he would love nothing more than to do just that.

“Look, it was a mistake. We were drunk, it won’t happen again.”

Steve wants to punch him. He wants to push him, kick him, make him react, make him do something other than just stare at him with that face. He doesn’t recognise the guy standing in front of him. There is nothing in him that he had been that night. The look of want in his eyes is burned in Steve’s brain, the way he had held him, touched him, kissed him. All of that is gone.

 “You’re messed up.”

That earns him a scoff, that tongue snaking out to run over his teeth in a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes, “says the guy hanging out with a bunch of kids.”

“Well at least those kids are real with me. None of them in there are trying to hide who they are, they’ll accept me no matter what I am.”

Billy thumps his fist on the car roof, looking around with that sadistic grin still on his face, when he spoke, his voice was low, “You think you know me, Harington? You don’t know a goddamn thing.”

Steve shakes his head, taking a step closer, “I know you’re a fucking coward. I know what I felt that night. I know you want me and you’re too chicken shit to admit it or do anything about it.”

“You know nothing, Harrington. You think I’m some faggot? You think I have some girl crush on you? Forget what happened, it’s all bullshit.”

Steve flinches, heart racing, blood rushing in his ears. He feels the panic rise in him, the stupid feeling that comes to him sometimes. Please no, not _now_. He tries taking deep breaths, hands shaking, willing himself to calm down. Nancy’s voice saying those same words running over and over in his brain.

Billy’s frowning, watching Steve, hand twitching. Steve just tries to focus on breathing, on the knot in his stomach. Billy shifts, hand moving down to his car door, pulling it shut as he moves around it, towards Steve.

“Harrington?”

“Fuck off, just go away,” Steve gasps out, focusing on the anger, letting that was over him, chasing away the anxiety. He feels himself calm a little, moves backwards when Billy tries to take another step.

“Leave! Go!”

He turns and storms back in to the small house, slamming the door shut behind him and bolting it. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, hands pressed against it, feeling his breath on his fingers, focusing on that. After a moment, he hears the Camaro roar to life and the kick up of stones as it drives off and he takes another shuddering breath.

“Steve? You okay?”

He feels Dustin’s hand on his back.

“Come on, big guy, you’ve got to order us pizza, Mrs Buyers doesn’t trust any of us with the money.”

Steve laughs a little breathless laugh, nodding and turning away from the door when Dustin tugs his sleeve. Dustin is good with him when Steve gets like this, he knows what to do. He knows that Steve panics because he is terrified. Everyone leaves him, pushes him away; Nancy, his friends, his parents, now Billy. Dustin knows that sometimes Steve worries he and the gang will leave him too. He knows that Steve needs reminding sometimes, reminding that he is needed, he is wanted. He needs reminding that they want him to cart them around, to order them pizza, to look after them even though they are loud and annoying. That he is one of them, a part of the group, the family, and they aren’t going anywhere.

Steve smiles, feeling the anxiety replaced with a warm feeling as he looks around at the worried faces surrounding him. He ruffles Dustin’s hair and goes to the phone. The kids all settle back to their D&D game while Steve orders the pizza, Mike yelling over to remember to ask for extra cheese but Steve’s already got it covered. When he hangs up, he goes in to the kitchen, pushing aside the money Mrs Byers left and taking out his wallet, counting the bills. When he turns around, Max is in the doorway.

“You okay?”

Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair, bracing his hands against the kitchen counter behind him.

“Your brother is a goddamn asshole, you know that?”

She nods her head, giving him a smirk, “I’ve been told.”

Steve chuckles, rubbing a hand across his face, “sorry, I know he’s your brother and all but, Jesus I could kill the guy sometimes.”

Max comes closer, leaning against the counter beside Steve, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“He wasn’t always like this,” Steve wants to snort at that, but stays quiet. Max doesn’t often talk about Billy, he knows this is important.

“I mean, at first he couldn’t stand me. But I figured that was because he had just lost his mom, then suddenly got a new one, me coming along as extra baggage.”

Steve hadn’t thought about Billy’ mom before. He had been too wrapped up in the boy himself to think much about his past. Billy certainly never mentions it, there isn’t even any gossip at school about it. Max sighs, hands coming up to play with her long hair, twisting a strand around and around her finger as she speaks.

“He used to take me surfing. When Neal and my mom first got together, they would go on dates and leave me with Billy. He’d drive us to the beach and we’d spend the whole day there surfing. He smiled more back then. Neal wasn’t so bad, I think he was trying to impress my mom and didn’t want to scare her off with his temper. He hit Billy sometimes but nothing more than any parent would do to a kid.”

So it _was_ his dad. Steve had figured. For all of Billy’s reputation, the only fight he had gotten in to since moving to Hawkins was with Steve. A cold feeling creeps in to Steve’s gut as he listens to Max talk. Maybe it had started out as just discipline, but he knew it had gotten worse. He’s seen the bruises that litter Billy’s body. He’s seen the cuts and the marks. He’s watched Billy try to mask a limp in the corridors. He’s watched him grimace during practice and press a hand to his ribs. He’s seen him in the showers afterwards, deep purple marks spattering his golden skin as he laughs them off, blaming girls, blaming fights, blaming everything that would seem normal.

“What happened?” Steve asks quietly, wanting, needing to know what it was that had changed Billy so much. What had happened that had made him so scared to be himself? Where had the smiling boy from California that took his step sister surfing gone?

Max takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Neal and my Mom went out and Billy was meant to look after me. I always wanted to go to the arcade, he always wanted to go to the pier, meet up with some friends. So, each time we agreed to have a couple hours each, then he’d come get me and we could go home together and Neal wouldn’t know any different. I think Neil figured it out, he had friends in the police, eyes all over the town. Each time my Mom would leave me with him, I noticed him getting more bruised. I just thought what everyone else did; that he got in to fights while out with his friends. I never knew it was Neil. Not until my Mom married him and we went to live with him. I figured it out then, that Neil was beating him. I asked my Mom why and she just said Billy was trouble and needed to be disciplined.”

Steve listens in silence, frowning, bile rising in his throat with each word Max says.

“Then, one day, he was meant to come get me and he didn’t. I waited for hours outside the arcade but he didn’t show. I thought he must have gone home with some girl, he did that from time to time, but never when he was meant to look after me. So, I got angry, it was bad enough that I was now living in that home, listening to Neil beating him, watching my Mom turn her head away, watch Billy resent me for becoming his chore. So, I skated home and told Neil and he – he -”

She ducks her head and Steve feels his heart race. She turns to him, tears falling heavy down her cheeks, voice nothing more than a croak.

“It was all my fault! I was the reason! I told him where Billy was. I didn’t know he was going to do what he did - I swear, I didn’t know -”

Steve put his hands on her shoulders, “hey, Max, shh – its okay – Max.”

“Any time I try to talk to him about it – to say I’m sorry he gets so angry – he goes crazy – he doesn’t listen -”

Steve starts to panic, watching Max feeling her shoulders shake with her sobs. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. What the hell does someone do with a story like that?

Then El is there. She gives Steve this sad, knowing smile and gently pries Max away from him, replacing his arms with her own. Max clings to her, her face hidden by her mane of red hair and she sobs in to El’s shoulder. The other girl just shushes her, stroking her head motheringly, whispering things in her ear that seem to calm her down a little.

Steve backs off, knowing that El will be more help than he was. He ushers Dustin and a worried Lucas out the room from where they hover in the doorway, meeting the rest of them in the hall and gesturing to them to return to the living room.

They all sit in awkward silence, the tv the only noise in the room besides El and Max’s distant whispering. Steve’s leg bounces where he sits. He’s carded his fingers through his hair so many times no amount of farrah facett spray is going to rescue it.

When Max eventually does re appear with El, her eyes are dry but her face a little flushed. She smiles at Steve and joins Lucas on the couch. The pizza arrives soon after and the mood returns as everyone eats, the atmosphere lighter, everyone going back to normal. Steve has barely any appetite but forces himself to eat.

What had Billy done that was so horrible that his father had to move his entire family out of state? It couldn’t have just been about shirking his responsibility of Max to meet up with some girl.

He swallows down his last mouthful of pizza, tasting like cardboard.

He watches Max as she smiles at her friends, squashed in the couch beside El and Lucas. He likes Max. She’s fiery and cheeky but she’s also loving, kind, smart. How could Billy blame her for ratting him out? She was a kid, she hadn’t known what the consequences would have been. How could he had just left her to stand outside an arcade while he went of and fucked some girl? She was innocent in all this, she had been moved home, to a new family that was dysfunctional, a mother who didn’t care enough about her, a step father that was the world’s biggest asshole and a step brother who treated her like shit. She had no choice, no say in any of it, just had to suffer in silence. And Billy had the cheek to yell at her and make her feel like shit when all she tried to do was apologise?

Steve clenched his fists, disgust rising in him, wanting nothing more than to seek out Billy and punch him square in the face for what he was doing to Max. She had all this poison hiding in her heart and still she smiled, laughed, kept it all to herself and blamed herself for it all. She was too good to waste her breath on Billy. The guy was the biggest asshole Steve had ever known.

They clear away the empty pizza boxes and Steve goes to made some bowls of popcorn, needing to keep himself busy, keep his mind off everything. All he wants to do was wrap Max up in his arms and tell her how much of a good person she is and that she didn’t owe Billy shit. He also wants to kick Billy as hard as he can where the sun don’t shine but he figures he could save that for later.

 “Steve! Mikes being a little bitch!”

He jumps at Dustin’s loud yelling, pouring the popcorn in to two large bowls and makes his way back in to the living room with them where Mike and Dustin are squabbling.

“What? Its El’s turn to choose what we watch tonight!”

“If El choses we end up watching some mediocre bullshit that even your little sister would laugh at!”

Steve groans, handing a bowl to Max as Lucas tugs a blanket over them. He hands the other bowl to Will who is curled up in the armchair, a sketchpad in his lap, hand holding pencil paused mid draw as he giggles at Dustin and Mike who are currently kneeling on the floor in front of the tv squabbling over the remote. The TV randomly changing channels as each boy pulls at the remote, clumsy fingers hitting buttons in an attempt to win it over.

Steve drags a chair over from the corner of the room, sliding it in to place next to Will’s seat and plops down next to him, grimacing at Dustin who gazes up at him imploringly, “Jesus Christ, man what the hell is wrong with you? El’s choice isn’t that bad.”

Mike seems to perk up at his words, rounding on Dustin with renewed fever, “yeah, man, don’t be such a dickhead and just go with it.”

Dusting jerks, closing his eyes, eyebrows raised as if Mike had just offended his mother, “Uh, how about no? Last time she wanted to watch Bagpus on repeat!”

Steve rolled his eyes, casting a sympathetic look to El but found her only smiling fondly at Mike in response, clearly having no idea what the loud squabbling was all about. Max and Lucas were sharing a large bowl of popcorn, looking impatient and Will, ever the patient one, was looking at Mike just as fondly as El was. Steve clapped his hands together, breaking up the loud bickering and gaining the attention of the whole room.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Losers! Enough yelling or I’ll give you dickheads something to yell about! What’s the choice and I’ll decide?”

Dustin but in over Mike’s protests; “Rocky Horror Picture Show or Ghost Busters.”

Steve falters, glancing at Will worriedly, “Why scary films? I thought Will was scared of them all?”

“No I’m not!”

Dustin rolls his eyes at the older boy, “these ones aren’t scary, one is a musical for god’s sake, do you not know anything?”

“Musical sounds nicer, I’m going with musical.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin doesn’t seem too happy with his choice.

“Yes!” Mike, on the other hand seems thrilled, looking over to El gleefully.

“That’s it! Decision made! Pipe down and just watch the movie,” Steve shouts over Dustin’s protests and smiles as the curly haired boy grumbles, slouching down against Steve’s legs and tugging a blanket over his own. Mike pushes in the VHS then shuffles over to lean against the end of the couch El is perched on and smiles up at her before clicking the remote to start the movie.

The musical as it turns out is actually pretty good but Steve struggles to concentrate much. All was going fine until ‘Rocky’ made an appearance in all of his muscles, tanned, blonde, golden speedo’d glory and Steve was twitching in his seat, trying his hardest to ignore how much he reminds him of Billy. Will shifts around beside him and Steve pretends he was dozing off, closing his eyes, resting his head against his hand.

Despite everything he had heard, there was still something in his head that nagged at him, telling him he was missing something. There had to be some reason, something that had happened that Max clearly didn’t know about. Something that would warrant moving to Hawkins. Something that had changed Billy from the Cali boy that took Max surfing to the unpredictable guy that screamed and fought and drove too fast.

He was determined to find out. He needed to find out. Despite it all, he still wanted Billy, he glared at Rocky on the screen and tried not to think about the kiss. He needed to know what horrible, awful thing Billy had done and maybe then these stupid feelings would go away and he could leave Billy behind him. Maybe then he would have some peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!
> 
> Long ass chapter here! A few things i want to mention about it.  
> The story continues on after the party, looking at Steve's feelings on everything. I also wanted to do a chapter with Steve and the gang. I really wanted to play in to Steve and Dustin interacting, coupled with the domestic aspect of the gang with Steve, setting a scene of them all hanging out and Steve being one of the family. I also wanted to have a nice little Hopper/ Joyce moment so ta-dah!  
> the chapter opens with another Cali!Billy flashback, this time with his first time having sex with his then boyfriend. The flashbacks all contrast the chapters the correspond with so this one shows a very vulnerable Billy, first time, in a loving relationship, very pure and virginal. It contrasts the present day Billy we see in the rest of the chapter who is tainted and hiding himself.  
> Another thing in this chapter i want to explain is Steve. My theory is he has major abandonment issues, having suffered many people leaving him in his life and that coupled with the PTSD of the Upside Down i wanted to show him having a panic attack looking at that side of him and have Dustin and the gang be the ones to ground him and remind him that they are his true family.  
> The last thing i want to mention is Max. I have a theory as to why they leave Cali - there s a scene in the show where Billy is driving Max home and we see Billy's unpredictable temper come in to play for the first time. The thing that triggers it is Max and him arguing over the reason they had to leave Cali each blaming each other. My theory is that Max snitched on Billy - not knowing he was with his boyfriend - and Neal goes to find him and catches them in the act Neal then beats the hell out of Billy and forces him to end it. Then moves the family out of shame.  
> I haven't; gone fully in to this as it is from Max's perspective who doesn't know about Billy's sexuality at this point.  
> So at this point, Steve thinks Billy is a class A asshole. As the story develops, perhaps he will learn Billy more and eventually find out the truth of it all. Keep reading to find out!  
> Please let me know what you think of it so far, i am really enjoying writing this story and im trying really hard with it. I want to keep it as in character s possible and as canon to the show as i can so any errors please let me know too!  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Vee


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And for some reason, Billy hates Steve thinking badly of him. He wants him to know the truth, he wanted to know the boy and he wanted him to know Billy. So he blew out a sigh and closed his eyes, thinking up the words he never thought he would say to another living soul.
> 
> “It was a boy.”
> 
> Steve’s quiet for a bit, clearly not expecting Billy to speak. Billy wonders if he’s ever going to reply, wonders if he’s too far gone in his hatred of him that he’ll never listen to him explain. He waits, smokes down to the filter and flicks the but away. Only when Steve has finished his own smoke and discarded it does he reply. His voice low, head bent.
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Back in Cali. It wasn’t a girl I was meeting up with, it was a guy. My boyfriend.”

_“David’s in the hospital, some asshole jumped him.”_

_Billy comes crashing through the hospital doors like they personally offended him. He finds the room after screaming at the nurse at her station in frustration when she tells him it is family only._

_His room is empty when Billy gets there. The low and steady beep beep beep of the life monitor acts as some kind of beacon to him, pulling him across the room from where he has a death grip on the door handle._

_His eyes are closed, most of his face hidden behind the oxygen mask. There’s blood and bandages and swollen skin everywhere and Billy just tries to breathe around the lump lodged in his throat._

_He’s vaguely aware of the nurse behind him, telling him he’s not fit for visitors, that he was beaten within an inch of his life, that they think it was a racial attack, that they’re not sure if or when he’s going to wake up._

_Hands touch his shoulders in an attempt to pull him away and he thrashes against them wildly, hands digging in to the dead weight of his hand, profanities coming out of his mouth should anyone dare make him move now. They give up eventually, leave him alone in the room with the steady wheeze and click of the breathing tube and the beep beep beep of the machine._

_The tears blind him and he’s still choking on the lump lodged in his throat, thumb tracing across the dark umber skin he knows so well._

_“I’m so sorry,” he manages to get out, but he’s not sure what he’s sorry for._

_V_

 

The ring is cold on his finger. Billy twists it round and round, watching the moonlight glint off its surface. David had given it to him the night they first made love. It had been Billy’s first time with a guy. After, David had rolled over, gathered him up in his arms, pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him he loved him. He had given him the ring as a promise. A promise that they would always stay together.

He blinks away the tears and wipes angrily at his cold cheeks. He glares down at the murky water of the Quarry and clenches his fist hard until the ring digs in to his skin, focusing on the pain, letting it draw out all those dark feelings, like a lightening rod. He wants a drink. He’s already smoked all of his cigarettes. He’s not sure how long he’s been out here. He snuck out after Neal had gone to bed, drove to the woods and walked through them until he got to the Quarry – his new favorite spot. He had come here a couple times. Since Steve had admitted it was one of his usual haunts, Billy had returned again and again, part of him always hoping Steve would be there, another part hoping to god he never was.

Guilt twists in his gut. He has been an ass to Steve.

The original plan had been to just drop Max off and get the hell out of there. If all went well, Steve wouldn’t have even caught a glimpse of him. But, of course, being Billy’s luck, Steve fucking Harrington had been stood on the porch, staring him down.

And damn, if Harrington didn’t look _good._ He had been all fire and fury, the King Steve Billy had been looking for, the one he only let out when Billy pushed him far enough.

He forgets how much fight is in the boy too often. For all his goading for him to let out his King Steve side, Billy forgets every time how much fire is in the guy. He doesn’t shy away, he doesn’t run, he is the guy that had faced him and took hit after hit just to defend a bunch of kids. The guy has balls, and Billy forgets that time after time.

He had stared at him from his car, watching him stand defiant, smoking his cigarette, glaring past the beams of his headlights, daring Billy to back off, to run away. Billy knew that sooner or later, he would have to face the guy. He couldn’t just avoid him forever or expect him to just brush over what had happened that night at the party.

That night is drilled into Billy’s brain. It plays over and over in his head, how fucking good it had felt to kiss Steve. How right it was to have him in his arms. How soft his lips had been, how delicious his moans were, vibrating against Billy’s mouth, resonating through his bones. Billy wants nothing more than to just live in that night, in that moment. He wants to stay there, kissing Steve, kissing him until his lungs burn and he suffocates. He wants Steve branded in to him, to never forget how the boy tasted. But his father’s words came running through his head. He had ran. Steve was right about that, he was a fucking coward. Everything he had said to him that night at the Byers was true. He wanted him. God, he wanted Steve more than he had wanted anything in his life. And it fucking scares him.

The snap of a branch behind him has Billy springing to his feet, turning to the darkness only to find Steve fucking Harrington standing there, paused mid step like a deer in headlights.

He would laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face, if it wasn’t replaced so quickly with a look of pure hate and disgust.

“You got to be kidding me, what the fuck are you doing here, Hargrove?”

Billy scoffs, “you own the land here or something? King Steve here to kick me out of his kingdom?”

“Give it a rest.”

He waves a hand at the empty space beside him, Steve still hovering in the treeline, “cop a squat, could use a smoke if you have them.”

There’s a moment of silence before Steve speaks, low and strained, “I’m not in the mood.”

Billy bristles at that, getting to his feet, walking over to stand before the guy, cocking his head at his glower.

“You got a problem, Harrington?”

“You’re my fucking problem, Hargrove.”

Billy’s stomach thrills at that, watching Steve spitting fire at him. He can practically smell the anger rolling off him. Billy laughs, stepping closer, squaring his shoulders. He will be lying if he says he isn’t looking for a reaction from the boy.

Steve gives him a once over, nose wrinkling, “you know what? I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I genuinely think you might be the worst fucking person I have ever known.”

 Billy bares his teeth, wanting to tangle his fingers in that hair of his and tug hard, “you don’t know dick about me, Harrington.”

Steve’s nose twitches as he leans in, voice low and steely, “I do know a thing or two about who you are. Max told me what happened back in Cali, why she’s so shit scared of you.”

That’s got Billy’s attention. Fear rushes through him like a tidal wave and he leans back, studying that face, “what did she tell you?”

There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes that sets Billy on edge, “that you blew off your responsibility to look after her to go meet up with some girl. Which, hey, I’m not going to rock the boat here, who hasn’t shirked off chores to go do something more fun, huh? But the fact that you let her blame herself all this time for that? That’s low, man. Who the fuck does that? She’s a fucking kid, she didn’t know what she was doing.”

His voice rises as he speaks, his hands move around, his skin flushes, he’s getting himself worked up, anger building in him and Billy just stares, just listens.

“I saw her sobbing over you, telling me over and over how sorry she is and how she doesn’t understand how you can hate her so much. That you won’t even let her apologize for it without going ape shit at her. You don’t fucking deserve her as your sister.”

Billy grits his teeth so hard the could crack. Steve’s words have his head reeling, his blood rushing, he feels dizzy with it. _She’s not my goddamn sister._

“And then you come here, dragging your shit from Cali with you, making us all miserable, being the biggest jerk this world has ever seen, causing trouble left right and center and you have the fucking balls to act like you’re not the one with the problem?”

Steve scoffs, looking Billy up and down again in that way that says he’s nothing to him, no better than the dirt beneath his shoes.

“You’re a fucking coward. You’re a bully. And I don’t know why I wasted a goddamn second on someone like you.”

Billy snaps, shoving at Steve’s chest hard but the boy holds fast. He wants to laugh, wants to throw his head back and roar to the fucking moon, “finally learned to plan your feet, huh?”

Steve’s nostrils flare and he shoves back against Billy’s chest hard and Billy isn’t expecting it, goes stumbling back, thrown off balance. Before he can recover, Steve swings his arm and his fist connects with Billy’s jaw, sending the boy sprawling.

Pain erupts in his jaw but adrenaline spikes in his veins. Billy feels drugged, euphoric as he gets back to his feet. Teeth glinting as he grins, his lip split at the corner and a trickle of blood running down his chin. He lets out a low laugh and spits blood on the ground then curls his fist. This is what he’s been looking for. This is what he’s been wanting, not even realizing it. Steve’s looking at him, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes wild and full of fire, full of _fight._ It makes Billy’s blood catch fire in his veins.

“All hail king Steve,” he sing songs and grins when he watches Steve clench his jaw.

“Fuck you, Hargrove.”

Billy licks at his split lip, “in your dreams, pretty boy.”

Billy bounces on his feet and he feels alive, more alive than he’s felt in days. Fighting is what he knows. Fighting is what he’s good at. It’s what he’s always done. He’s always angry, always hot blooded and seething. He doesn’t know how to be without his anger.

 “Come on, Pretty boy, give me all you’ve got.”

“You’re fucked up, you know that?”

“Baby, you got no idea.”

This fight isn’t like their last one. This time Billy isn’t fulled by rage at his father, pummeling Steve’s face in mercilessly. Its not him trying to better him, to come out on top. They’re trading punches. His fist connects with Steve’s ribs and he backs away as the guy goes sprawling, gasping and breathing hard, arm curled around his body. Billy backs off and waits for Steve to recover, get back up on his feet and answer with his own hit. He punches him in the jaw and it sends Billy reeling, pain flaring across his face and he lets out a loud should. He watches Steve shake his hand out, trying to work out the pain there. He’s breathing heavy and his eyes are alive and Billy gets back to his feet, rolling his jaw and curling his fingers in to a fist.

Its not funny this time. Its not fun. Is cleansing. The pain burns through his body, burns like fire, burning away all the poison and he feels like he needs this. Needs it more than anything else right now.

Steve’s fist connects with his face and pain, pure and firing pain flares across his face upon contact. He feels his head spin with the force, his balance thrown and he falls to the ground. His head thunks against the grass and he lays there, waiting for his head to stop spinning and the pain to subside a little so he can think straight.

Steve follows him down, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and hauls him to his feet again, shoving him back. Billy throws a punch but its wide and clumsy and misses completely and he easily dodges it Steve’s hand comes up to shove against Billy’s chest again, the blond stumbling back until his back hits against a tree.

Steve follows him there.

“I fucking hate you,” he growls out then fists a hand in Billy’s curls and yanks his mouth to his.

Billy’s body roars in satisfaction and he kisses Steve sound, hungry and fierce. His hands are everywhere, running over his waist, bunching up the fabric of his shirt, slipping under until his palms are pressed against Steve’s fevered skin. He drags his nails across and delights in Steve’s answering moan.

Steve bites his lip in retaliation, teeth digging in, worrying at the cut there, Billy’s mouth tasting of Steve and his own blood. He growls in to the brunette’s mouth, knees weakening. He moves, not breaking the kiss, spins them until he’s got Steve crowded in against the tree. Billy’s body presses him in, making Steve gasp when he feels the hard pressure of his dick straining in his jeans.

Billy’s hands move down to Steve’s ass again, grinding hard against him, moaning loud and unabashed when he feels Steve’s hardness press against his. He wants him so fucking bad, and this time, he’s not planning on running. His mouth moves down Steve’s neck, biting and sucking, peppering him with bruises, marking his neck until it’s black and blue, wanting no skin to be left unmarred by his mouth. Steve moans and clings to him, hips bucking wildly, nails scraping angry red lines across his skin.

He rips the jacket off Steve, throwing his own to the ground with it and tugs the boy’s sweatshirt over his head. Steve’s fingers rip open the few buttons holding Billy’s shirt to his body and throws it aside like it personally offends him. His nails dig in to his pecks, dragging across his skin, down, down to his stomach, trailing through the smattering of hair there and Billy bites down hard on his shoulder.

The night is chilling but Steve’s body is warm, his skin soft and wonderful against Billy’s. Its been too goddamn long since he’s been touched like this. He mouths at the skin of Steve’s throat, licks along his collarbone, grunts and grinds harder in to him when his fingers tangle in his curls, giving a hard yank that sends jolts of electricity down his spine.

Then Steve’s hands are at his belt, frantically pulling his jeans open and Billy feels like he might faint when he dives a hand in to them, palming him though his boxers.

“Fuck – fuck.”

Steve leans forward and bites at Billy’s earlobe, sucking it in to his mouth, making Billy tremble as it sends shivers coursing all over his body.

“Come on, asshole,” he’s whispering, voice fucking wrecked and Billy hasn’t even started with him yet, “come _on_.”

He surges forward and kisses Steve again, kisses him bruising and hard, swallowing his moans, licking at his mouth, sucking on his tongue, consuming everything about this boy, taking anything Steve is willing to give him.

His fingers frantically undo his jeans, yanking them down to below his ass and does the same to himself, Steve moaning in to his mouth when he presses close again, unclothed erections brushing together.

Steve breaks the kiss, sighs and sighs, eyes darting down and fucking whimpering when he watches Billy take them both in hand, bucking his hips against the feeling. He thunks his head back against the tree, pre-come spurting out of his tip, wetting Billy’s fingers, making them glide together better.

Billy gets his other hand around the boy’s throat, pushing him back against tree, watching those dark eyes glaze over, feels his pulse hammering against his palm. Steve’s body goes limp, he just stands there, heated gaze soaking through Billy’s skin, breathing hard, hair a mess, lips swollen, pliant and so deliciously submissive. Billy presses in harder and feels the answering moan rumble against his fingers, feels Steve’s cock twitch and jerk in his hand, watches his knees tremble and fuck, if that’s not the hottest thing Billy has ever seen.

 “Fuck – Billy – _fuck._ ”

He bucks faster, keeping his eyes on Steve’s, squeezing them together, feeling the delightful drag of Steve’s head against his, the soft velvet of his skin, the iron strength of his need. He’s not going to last long. This boy is all he’s though about for months, He’s in his head, seeped in to his skin, rushing though his veins He’s so much and more of what Billy wants and he’s dizzy with it.

He squeezes just a bit harder on his throat Steve gasping and whimpering, eyes wide and mouth gaping open, he trembles and Billy feels him pulse. Then he’s shooting hot and wet all over Billy’s hand and Billy can’t resist, it’s too good, the power trip, that look in his eyes, the fire, the fury. He comes so hard he almost blacks out, trembling and moaning, hand releasing from around Steve’s throat as he falls forward, burying his face in the boy’s neck.

He stays there, breathing hard, head bobbing with Steve’ heavy breathing, smelling of sweat and Steve. He grins, laughing breathlessly against his skin and leans back, brings his hand up, covered in his and Steve’s release and licks greedily at his fingers. Steve watches him, enthralled and it sends a shiver down his spine He licks himself clean and tucks himself back in his boxers, tugging his jeans back up and tightening his belt.

Steve seems to come out of a daze, jerkily following suit, tugging up his jeans and righting himself. Billy chuckles, cocky and sated, bends down to retrieve his shirt, tugging it on but leaving it open. It’s a little damp from the ground but his skin is still full of fire, heat settled in to his very bones.

When he turns around, Harrington is dressed again but he looks wrecked. His hair is a mess, cheeks flushed, mouth red and swollen. His neck is a mess of dark marks, disappearing in to the neckline of his sweatshirt and Billy thrills at the thought of him trying to hide them, sneaking around in school with Billy’s marks all over him. Billy runs his tongue over his teeth and grins and Steve glowers at him, tugging his jacket on and stalking past him.

He watches the boy take his seat at the outcrop edge, legs kicked over the side to dangle in the air. He tugs out his smokes and lights one, taking a long drag then looks at Billy over his shoulder.

The blond shuffles forwards, tugging on his leather jacket as he goes and plops down next to him, taking the offered cigarette and breathing it in deep.

They sit in silence. Billy can still feel the seething anger rolling off Steve. He knows he probably hates him for this. Hates that it was so easy, that Steve wanted this just that badly. Billy couldn’t care less. It had been good. So fucking good. To hell with anything else. As they smoke, he starts to come down from his high, the warm glow leaving to be replaced with the hollow, cold feeling. Steve’s words play over in his head, everything he’s heard from Max. If it were anyone else, Billy could care less about what they thought of him. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Steve. And for some reason, Billy hates Steve thinking badly of him. He wants him to know the truth, he wants to know the boy and he wants him to know Billy. So he blows out a sigh and closes his eyes, thinking up the words he never thought he would say to another living soul.

“It was a boy.”

Steve’s quiet for a bit, clearly not expecting Billy to speak. He waits, smokes down to the filter and flicks the butt away. Only when Steve has finished his own smoke and discarded it does he reply. His voice low, head bent.

“What?”

“Back in Cali. It wasn’t a girl I was meeting up with, it was a guy. My boyfriend.”

Steve stays silent and Billy takes that as invitation to continue.

“Neil found out. One of his low life friends on the police force saw us together on the pier. Told him.”

“That night, I went to see him, to end it all. Neil told me if I didn’t, he’d kill me. If you know my dad, you’d know that kind of threat shouldn’t be taken lightly. So I went to see David and told him it was over. He wanted to run away together.  I told him I couldn’t. If it had been months earlier I would have gone with him in a heartbeat, left Neal in the dirt and never looked back. But, now I had Max. I couldn’t leave her there on her own.”

Steve’s looking at him. Billy stares defiantly ahead at the water, the trees, at   anything that can distract him. He knows if he looks at Steve now he’ll break. The tears he’s kept at bay for so long, the pain, the anger, everything he’s had to shut away will come flooding out.

“It took longer than I planned, I lost all track of time and by the time I got to the arcade, Max was gone. I was fucking terrified. Drove home so goddamn fast I nearly died. Neil wasn’t there. I didn’t see him until the next day. Before he could get the chance to beat the shit out of me, the phone went and next thing I knew, I was running down a hospital corridor. David had been jumped. They said it was some racist, drunk asshole. Black guys got jumped all the time there, old fucks that stayed living in the past.”

Billy clenches his fist, chest aching. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. David lying there, the feeling of complete helplessness he had felt. He could still smell that clinical, bleachy smell of the hospital room, hear the machines whirring in the background, the harsh, unforgiving lights.

“They didn’t think David was going to make it. His parents blamed me, told me if I really loved him, I would leave him be. Let him live a normal life, marry a girl, have kids. With me, there would be nothing but trouble.”

Billy feels numb. He isn’t sure if it is the cold or the memories. 

“Two weeks later, Neil had our entire life packed in to the back of his car and we were moving here.”

Steve’s quiet. His breathing low and steady. The world feels like glass around him, cracking and splitting, ready to shatter at any given moment.

“David. Did he recover?”

Billy shrugs, “I tried calling a few times but, his parents know my voice, they just hang up. I go through one time, his brother picked up. He always liked me, we got on well. He just told me that David was never going to be the same. But he had moved on, got himself a girl, he was happy.”

That had hurt. He thumbed at his ring again, remembering the promise that had come with it. All of that seemed like a far away dream now. It felt like he was telling the story of someone else’s life, some stranger.

“I’m sorry, Billy -”

“- Max doesn’t know. About me being gay. Or about David. I don’t want her to.”

“So, that’s why - Lucas”

Billy nods, itching, twitching. He leans over and tugs the carton of smokes out of Steve’s hand, pulls one to his mouth, lights it and smokes it fast. He fights the urge to run. He’ not used to this whole baring yourself shit. He’s not used to being intimate with anyone anymore. He’s trying. For Steve, he’s trying.

“If Neil found out about them. I don’t know what he would do. I know I’m an asshole, but she’s a good kid.”

“Billy-”

Billy took another drag, leg bouncing where he sits, “I never blamed her. I just can’t talk about it, not with her. Every time she tries, I just see David in the hospital bed and suddenly its her, lying there, face so swollen I wouldn’t know it was her. I just can’t.”

They sit quiet while he smokes. He crushes the end in to the ground and sighs, feeling a little relieved, a little unsafe. Steve moves, hand sliding over and cold fingers press against his. He thumbs at his knuckles and Billy has the strangest urge to laugh.

“I’m sorry, Billy. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Billy does laugh then, “nah, I deserved it, Harrington. I’m an ass, I know, I’d have punched me too.”

Steve meets his gaze then, smiling soft. Billy feels a little bit of tension leave him at that soft gaze. The hate is gone from his eyes, replace with that soft look that has him wanting to run. Has him wanting to curl up against him and breathe him in.

“Fuck, I need a drink.“

Steve chuckles, squeezing his fingers and getting up. He holds a hand out to Billy, “I can help you there, come back to mine, I’ve got plenty you can burn through. We can smoke by the pool, get drunk. You could do some more of that,” he says, gesturing to the tree he had Steve pressed against only minutes ago.

Billy grins, takes the offered hand and lets himself get hauled to his feet. He stumbles a little, nose bumping with Steve’s and he just stands there, right in his space, breathing his air. Jesus, he would love nothing more than to go home with this boy. He wants all and everything from him. He wants to wreck him, wants to show him he can do so much better than tonight, he’s not even begun.

“Tempting, Princess, but not tonight.”

He reads the disappointment in Steve’s face but he leans forwards, kisses him soft and sweet. Steve’s hands fly to his cheeks, hold him close, kiss him back. It’s nothing like what Billy is used to. The boy is gentle and Billy wants nothing more than to be wrapped up in him. But Neal’s expecting him home and he’s battered enough from Steve’s hits that he can’t stomach the idea of taking any more from Neil.

He drives Steve home, feeling better than he has in weeks. Steve sits comfy in his passenger seat, fiddling with his radio, singing along to it softly, smiling and looking like the Steve that had picked him up off the side of the road all that time ago. He drops him of at his absurdly large house, frowning at all those lit up windows. Steve climbs out, turns and rests his elbows on the top of the door, head bent in to the car to look at Billy.

“Tomorrow, the kids are going to the arcade for a few hours. Maybe I’ll see you there?”

Billy wants to grin. Wants to giggle like a fucking schoolgirl at that pretty face looking at him with such hope. Instead, he leans forwards, tugs on the front of Steve’s jacket and kisses him hard. Steve responds immediately, mouthing at his lips, moaning softly and it takes all of Billy’s willpower to pull away again.

He kisses him once more, then releases him.

“See you tomorrow, pretty boy.”

Steve grins, turns around and makes his way to his door. He waves at billy one last time before disappearing in the house.

Billy drives home fast, full of light hearted feeling that makes him want to drive and dive and never stop. He can still taste Steve on his tongue, that salty sweetness and he grins, hardly able to wait to taste more.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through!  
> So this chapter, a few things come to light with Billy. He comes clean about some things about his life in Cali - not everything! Still got some things to reveal!  
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Thank you all so much for reading.
> 
> Vee


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could fall in love with this. With the press of his lips and the taste of his tongue. The soft silk of his curls and the gold of his skin. The dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose that he adamantly refuses is there. The crystal blue of his eyes, sparkling like how he imagines the California ocean does. The roll of those muscles beneath his skin, like the roll of the waves. The way he holds Steve like he’s afraid he will disappear. How he licks at his skin, tasting the salt and sweetness of his mouth, his neck, his thighs his cock. He could fall in love with everything that Billy Hargrove is in a heartbeat.

_“Where were you last night?”_

_Billy groans internally, he barely slept a wink last night and opening his bedroom door the first thing in the morning to a pissed of Max is the last thing he wants to deal with._

_“Has Neil come home yet?”_

_He pushes past her in to the bathroom, splashing water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up._

_“Where were you last night?”_

_Clearly, Max isn’t planning on letting the matter drop. She stands in the doorway, arms crossed and waits for him to finish brushing his teeth. He wipes his mouth on a towel and turns to her, now trying to block the entire doorway with her skinny body._

_“I had a place to be, Max, get the fuck out of my way.”_

_“You didn’t pick me up.”_

_He pushes past her and moves through the house, ears and eyes trained on each room as he enters, watching for Neil, chest thrumming with nervous energy._

_“Look I lost track of time, alright? You’re late all the time, I’m late once, sue me._

_“I’ve never been two hours late!”_

_She’s in front of him again when he enters the kitchen. He looks around over her head and sighs, relieved when their parents remain nowhere to be found._

_“Look I don’t have time for this shit, where the fuck is Neil?”_

_“He’s not here.”_

_Billy rolls his eyes and makes his way back to his room to get ready for school, “yeah, I figured that, dipshit, where is he?”_

_“How the hell should I know? Probably at work.”_

_“Fuck off, Max, I’m not in the mood for you right now.”_

_“Well tough shit, you ditched me last night! You have any idea how angry my Mom and Neil were when I came home alone?”_

_Billy’s stomach drops and he rounds on her, the shirt he was about to pull on abandoned on the ground._

_“What the fuck are you talking about? He_ saw _you?”_

_She looks happy to get a reaction, squaring her shoulders and staring up at him defiantly, “yeah he saw me.”_

_He felt his hands shake, “the fuck happened to climbing in through your window?”_

_“You left me there for two hours! You really think I was just going to let you ditch me so you could fuck some girl and not say something about it?”_

_“Max –”_

_“I told him! I wasn’t going to cover for you this time, I was waiting for two hours in the dark! There? You listening to me now?”_

_He grips her shoulders in his hands, shaking her and staring in to her face, “what did you tell him? Max! What did you say?”_

_“I told him you ditched me to go to the pier! That’s where you were isn’t it? That’s where you always are!”_

_Billy’s breathing hard, blood rushing in his ears. He’s in deep shit._

_“Get the fuck out._

_“What?”_

_“Get the fuck out of my room!”_

_He slams the door in her face and starts pacing. He feels sick, there’s no way he’s getting out of this one without a beating. He had made him promise. He had promised never to see him again. Neil had beaten him black and blue until he screamed that he would never see David again. He was supposed to be with Max at the arcade._

_He had gone to end it, to say goodbye. It had been the hardest thing Billy had ever had to do and it hurt like hell._

_But he couldn’t do it. He had sobbed and clung to David and told him everything. David had implored him to come away with him, wiping the tears from his cheeks and told him about the life they could have, away from it all, away from Neil, away from everything._

_But Max. Goddamn fucking Max wound up being the one thing Billy couldn’t just leave. Then he had realized the time, two fucking hours he had been late. And she had gone home alone._

_He knows, some small part of his brain knows it isn’t her fault. He knows she has a right to be upset because he’s felt the same. To have all the control taken away from your life and to be left feeling abandoned and alone. Of course she is pissed. This is all his own goddamn fault._

_Neil is going to beat the crap out of him. Maybe,_ maybe _he will believe that Billy was just with friends. He can swear it, swear he hadn’t been with David. He’ll still get a beating for ditching Max but that is fine, he is used to that. As long as David stays out of it, Neil will hopefully not be so harsh._

_Fuck, there is nothing he can do about it now. Neil’s probably at work, he’s got nine hours to decide how he punishes Billy for this._

_Fuck._

_He pulls on his shirt and rips his bedroom door open, anxious and angry and too unstable for this shit, but if he doesn’t take Max to school it will just add to his fucking problems._

_“Max! Get your shit! We’re going to be late for school!”_

_He pauses at the front door, waiting for her reply but its drowned in the ring of the phone._

_“Fuck – what now?”_

_He rips it from the holder, “’What?”_

_“Billy?”_

_Billy frowns at the familiar voice, “Michael?”_

_“Billy. It’s David, Something’s happened.”_

 

V

 

 

 

Steve’s leg bounces with built up energy, his fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel as he glares at the door to Dustin’s house. His lips thin and he blows out a breath when said door stays decidedly shut.

“Oh my God,” Mike shouts when Steve’s hands begin drumming on the steering wheel, “dude, will you stop?”

“The fuck is taking him so long?”

“It’s been like three minutes, chill out, man.”

Steve heaves a sigh at Lucas’ words, three minutes? Really? It had felt like a full hour he’s been sitting here waiting for the curly headed teen to exit his house.

Steve’s been running on nervous energy all morning. The previous night is all he can think about, so much he’s dizzy with it. He’s nervous and frustrated and horny and just wants to get to the arcade where he knows Billy will be and be kissed senseless by the guy already.

Its new, its thrilling, its something Steve never thought he would ever have and he’s trying not to overthink it. He tugs on the collar of the turtleneck jumper he’ sporting today. It’s definitely not one of his favorites. It’s too tight and the ugliest shade of orange he’s ever seen but it’s the only thing he’s got to hide the massacre that is his throat thanks to Billy goddamn Hargrove and his annoyingly talented mouth.  

“There he is,” Will pipes up from his place in the passenger seat, pointing to the front door. Steve is jerked out of his meandering thoughts and follows his gaze to see Dustin running towards them, tugging on his hoodie as he goes. He yanks open the back door and climbs in, squashing Mike and Lucas in.

“Sorry, sorry, my Mom needed help changing the channel on the tv.”

Steve waits until he’s buckled himself in because, safety, and as soon as he hears the belt click into place, he’s off, waving at Dustin’s Mom from her living room window as they _finally_ make their way to the arcade.

Driving helps a little, at least he’s moving now, getting closer. Has it always taken this long to get there? It’s meant to only be a ten-minute drive why is everyone else driving so _slowly_? And are the traffic lights deliberately turning red as soon as he gets near them?

The kids don’t seem to notice his anxious impatience, or if they do, they just happily ignore it. Stressed Steve isn’t exactly a new concept to them. At least this time he isn’t stressing over whether or not they are consuming too much sugar or that time Will fell and scratched up his arm and Steve nearly had a heart attack because he thought he had broken it. They all seem to be plotting a new technique to overthrow Max’s reign as the best video game player out of the gang. Steve would laugh if he wasn’t so distracted because, yeah, in your dreams, boys.

When they finally roll in to the parking lot, the boys all shout thanks to Steve and climb out. Usually, Steve would go in with them, ‘show ‘em how its done’ he once boasted before losing miserably at a Pac-Man battle to each and every one of them. If Johnathan and Nany ever came along, he would sit with them at one of the booths, chatting, sharing a basket of chips to kill the time or they would go see some movie and come collect the rugrats upon returning.

Today, Steve had a slightly better distraction planed.

As if on cue, Billy’s signature Camaro comes rolling in to the parking lot and parks a few spaces down. Steve climbs out and feels the butterflies kick up a hurricane in his chest as the engine dies. He watches both doors open, usually Max is out the vehicle before Billy has even rolled to a stop but today, he watches the red head hover at the bumper, taping her fingers against her skateboard and wait for Billy to climb out.

Steve’s nerves seem to go on fire when he gets sight of the guy. Golden skin, golden curls, white shirt buttoned up to his navel, denim jeans, denim jacket, necklace sliding across the contours of his chest, earring glinting in the low sunlight. Steve blows out a sigh, it really isn’t fair for someone to be that goddamn attractive.

Steve composes himself and locks his car, pulling out his smokes, more for show. He waves to the approaching two and turns, making his way around the building to the secluded wall at the back that high school kids use to smoke, get high, drunk, out of sight from the kids and parents in the arcade. Max shouts out a greeting to him and he hears the arcade door open and shut behind her. He keeps walking, ears trained on the scuff of boots following not too far behind him.

He turns to the back, leans against the wall and waits.

Billy comes swaggering around the corner, eyeing Steve up like he’s a goddamn meal. Steve’s breath hitches at those blue, blue eyes, those soft curls swaying around in the light breeze. Those pink, lovely lips pulled in to a smirk.

“Took you long enough to get here,” Steve teases, leaning back in to the wall, liking how Billy just stands there, thumbs hooked in to his belt, eyes dragging over Steve.

“Fashionably late.”

Steve eyes him up and down, wondering if he’s looking so good because he’s taken the time for Steve. It thrills his stomach a little.

“I can see that.”

Billy runs his tongue over his teeth and Steve lets his eyes linger there, lets himself look after so long trying to hide it.

“Nice turtleneck.”

“Shut up, it’s your fault I need to wear it.”

Billy barks a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine grin on his face and Steve is mesmerized. He comes closer, tonguing his cheek and thumbs at the collar, pulling it down just slightly, eyebrows rising at the purple mark there that Steve had spent all morning glaring at.

“I like what’s underneath better.”

His voice is low, husky, breath tickling against Steve’s skin. His mouth is close and his fingers slide around to the back of is neck, thumb pressing against his jaw, tilting his head back. Steve’s mouth falls open and he wants to taste Billy so bad. He’s so close, breath mingling, eyes hooded, smelling like cheap cologne and cigarettes and _Billy_.

He leans forwards and Billy retreats, leaning back just out of Steve’s reach. He’s teasing him and Steve wants to just grab him by those stupid curls and kiss him already. Billy’s thumb caresses his jaw and those blue eyes are boring in to Steve’s, heated and sparkling.

Steve can’t resist, he ducks forward, sips at Billy’s bottom lip. The Cali boy chuckles, letting him, opening his mouth, still refusing to kiss back. Steve hates this game, just wants Billy against him, consuming him, taking everything from him like he had last night.

He surges forward again, catches Billy’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulls, sucking and he hears Billy groan. That seems to do the trick because then Billy is pressing him in to the wall, kissing him firmly and fiercely and Steve’s body roars in triumph.

Warm hands cup his jaw, cradling his head, his hands find Billy’s hips and he relishes in the feeling of him. He still marvels at how different he feels to the girls he’s been with. His waist is just as narrow, but he can feel the tone of muscles beneath, the dip and curve of his back, the firm flatness of his stomach, the soft sprinkling of hair on his navel. Billy’s stomach jumps and he moans softly in to the kiss when Steve’s fingernails drag gently down his abs. He grins against Steve’s mouth and pushes him in to the wall again, hips meeting his, Steve’s hands sliding around to the soft swell of that denim clad ass.

“That tickles,” Billy breathes in to his mouth and Steve grins, kissing him again, shivering at the low gravel of his voice.

God, he could do this all day, he decides when Billy licks in to his mouth. Where Billy had been all passion and fury last night, kissing Steve like he wanted to devour him, his kisses were opposite today. Steve always thought Billy would be fiery and rough, kissing like he fought, trying to dominate everything around him. But this kiss, it is slow and methodical, like they have all the time in the world. His lips are soft and warm and firm. He’s a good kisser. Fuck, he’s an amazing kisser. Steve’s head feels light and his knees weak and he feels like he’s never known what it is to kiss until now.

Billy sucks at his tongue and Steve is going crazy because he’s already half hard in his jeans and they’re in public, in the town, in the middle of the day and he’s three seconds away from letting Billy do anything and everything to him.

“B-Billy,” he manages, Billy releasing his mouth only to hook a finger in the collar of his turtleneck and pull it down so he can kiss at the mark there.

“Jesus, Billy – ” he lets out a moan when Billy sucks at that mark, a mix of pain and pleasure flooding Steve’s body.

He chuckles against his skin, pulling back to look at him, all breathless, messed up glory, “scared, pretty boy? Worried the cops are going to catch us?”

Steve clings to him, he’s horny and needy and Billy’s mouth is too good its messing with his brain and he doesn’t really care about anyone else but Billy, “the cops can suck my dick.”

Billy chuckles, kissing at the corner of his jaw, up to whisper in his ear, “how about I do it instead?”

“What? Seriously?”

Billy just grins at him, pressing another kiss to his lips then he’s dropping to his knees, fingers undoing Steve’s belt.

Steve’s stomach swoops and he thinks he might actually pass out. Billy looks so goddamn good kneeling there, blue eyes looking at him full of mischief and Steve’s not sure he has it in him to stop him. He glances about them. The back alley is deserted, angled away from any prying eyes, its just them here. Steve’s never done anything like this before, he’s never dared. Billy makes him brave, somehow. Its risky as hell, but then Billy’s got his cock out and his mouth around his head and Steve’s mind goes blank.

Fuck. If Steve thought Billy was a good kisser. He’s fucking phenomenal at this.

His mouth is hot and warm, a tight heat, better than anything Steve’s ever felt before. He takes Steve down, right to the bottom, his nose buried in the dark curls at his base and Steve can feel the back of his throat. Billy lingers for a moment before pulling back, tongue moving against the underside of him, moaning softly and it resonates through Steve’s entire soul.

His hands scramble for purchase on the brick wall behind him until Billy catches them with his own, bringing them to his hair, inviting him to tangle his fingers in those curls, moans again when he pulls.  Its too good. Billy’s bobbing his head back and forth, sucking Steve’s very soul out through his dick, cheeks hollowed and flushed and Steve can’t look away. He tugs and pulls at Billy’s hair breathing hard as he listens to the soft whimpers it elicits, eyes locked to the stretch of those pink lips around him, groaning and bucking at the tongue working him good.

He’s close, he’s never had anything this good before, not with any girl. Billy sucks dick like he was born to do it. Steve shivers, hips twitching and Billy’s hands come up, pushing them in to the wall, holding him still, moving faster, sucking harder and Steve has to bite down on his lip hard to keep from moaning so loudly.

He can feel that tell-tale shift in his gut, the tingling in his spine, the weakening in his knees, he tugs on Billy’s hair, trying to warn him, “B-Billy I’m – fuck I’m close.”

Billy doesn’t relent, he gives a small nod and keeps working him and Steve feels himself rushing close and closer to he edge. Blue eyes meet his, hooded and dark and full of so much want it has Steve’s orgasm crashing through him like a tidal wave. He moans, bucking in to the blond’s mouth, head thrown back against the wall, eyes closed as he feels that mouth suck every inch he’s got from him. He shudders, entire body ridged, feeling pleasure in every cell of his body.

When he’s spent, he sags back against the wall and Billy releases him with a wet pop. The cold air against his wet flesh has him shivering but all he can so is breath hard against the wall and watch Billy swallow all of his release down, fucking licking at his lips like a cat who’s just got cream.

“Sh-shit, dude.”

Billy grins and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. He tucks Steve back in his jeans and stands, hands coming around him and mouth pressing against his.

Steve jerks a little, and worries about the taste but Billy’s lips are warm and his tongue tastes salty and sweet and there’s something about it that Steve finds really goddamn hot.

“You taste fucking good, baby.”

His voice is hoarse and wrecked.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he breathes out, kissing Billy again and enjoys the way those strong arms hold him up.

“Been wanting to do that for months,” Billy admits, thumbing at Steve’s hips, “wasn’t exactly going to disappoint, was I?”

Steve rolls his eyes at his cockiness but gives him a fond grin. Billy kisses his smile.

“What about you?” Steve asks, glancing down at Billy’s jeans where he can just make out a tent beneath the flaps of his jean jacket.

Billy shifts, “you can pay me back later, princess, I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Steve preens at that, ignoring the nickname and smiles when Billy presses a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“We should head in,” Billy says, smiling at Steve’s answering whine, “last thing I need is that curly haired one seeing me messing up his adopted Mom.”

Steve shoves him off, laughing, “I’m no one’s freaking, Mom, dude.”

Billy grins as they make their way back around to the entrance, snaking his arm around Steve’s hips and leaning over to whisper in his ear, “hey, I’m in to Moms.”

He winks and darts off, narrowly avoiding Steve’s hit and disappears in to the Arcade. Steve laughs, feeling light and happy. Billy’s usually all hard edges and brutal punches. He’s tough as nails to the rest of the world, but with Steve, he’s soft, and Steve really, really likes it. Wants to see Billy like this always.

 

 

V

 

 

Weeks go by and Steve thinks he might just be falling for Billy Hargrove.

He can’t get enough of the guy. Between karting the kids around, school and the occasional trip to the Quarry, Billy Hargrove has become a steady constant in his life.  The gang accepted his presence begrudgingly, reasonably distrustful of the guy that had pummeled Steve’s face in as a first impression. After a few hang outs, some ice creams bought for them and eventually El plopping down next to Billy one night at the Byers and smiling at him like they were old friends, he was part of the gang.

Max and Billy seem to be getting better too. He’s not really sure what went on between the two. All he knows is that Max seems to like him hanging around and even seems relieved when he actively offers to give rides to her and her friends. Steve finds himself watching them sometimes, their intimacy is obviously old, uncharted territory and he wonders if Billy finding out Max had been blaming herself all this time really had made a difference. Then Dustin mentions offhandedly to Steve one night at the Byer’s that Billy had actually apologized to Lucas. Steve, immensely surprised grabbed Lucas and demands to know what happened.

“He said he was sorry and told me it didn’t change the fact that if I hurt Max or made her upset even for a second, he would run me over with his car.”

Steve laughs and ruffles the kid’s hair and lets him go. He looks over to where Billy sits on the couch next to El and Will. El’s got Billy’s arm draped across her lap and she’s drawing stars all over the skin of his forearm with an assortment of brightly colored felt tip pens.

Billy’s watching her as she does, his curls falling across his face but Steve can see the trace of a smile there as he allows her to turn his arm this way and that, making sure to get all available inches of skin.

It warms Steve’s chest and he has to tear his gaze away, the protests of the kids that are suddenly ‘starving to death,’ giving him the motivation to get up and head to the kitchen.

He’s got a casserole baking in the oven. Prolonged time alone in his house had sickened him of takeout food and forced him to learn how to cook. He found he was actually pretty good at it and really enjoyed it on occasion. He peers in to the oven at it, nodding, satisfied with the result and pulls on the oven gloves to retrieve it. He flips the door closed with his hip and sets the casserole down on the counter to cool a little, switching off the oven and taking off the mitts. He grabs a large spoon out of one of the drawers and a stack of plates.

Billy appears in the doorway then, hands hooked on the top of the door frame, hovering there as he watches Steve move about. Steve sees his arm is now completely covered in stars, flowing from red to orange, to blue, to purple and pink. He can’t help the smile that creeps across his face and Billy glances down at it, smile widening, fingers running over them.

“Think the kid’s got us figured out,” Billy says, shuffling over to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist from behind as he spoons out helpings on to each plate.

“Yeah, she’s smart with shit like that, seems to like you a lot.”

Billy blows a laugh out against Steve’s neck and hums, “too bad, I’m taken.”

“Mike’ll be glad to hear that.”

Steve tries not to grin too hard at Billy’s words. They haven’t exactly discussed this – whatever they are. It doesn’t exactly bother Steve. It’s fun, he is enjoying it – loving it, really. Sure, they are sneaking about and have to hide from everyone, but there is an element of fun in that, an excitement in the secret that only he and Billy share that Steve likes. He’s eating better, his nightmares aren’t coming as often. Even when his Mom called from her trip to check in on Steve, he wasn’t all that annoyed about it all. Usually he was bitter, cold, resenting his parents for ditching him yet again. But this time around, he chatted happily with her with Billy’s head in his lap, fingers threading through his hair. Besides, it means he gets more time to spend with Billy.

Billy likes being at his house. He likes his heated pool and his endless stash of alcohol. He likes his soft bed sheets and his fancy shower. He especially likes making a mess of him in every single goddamn room, just because he can. When he’s there with Steve, he can tell he’s at ease. He doesn’t need to glance about, paranoidly checking every place they go lest they get caught. He doesn’t have to drop his hand as soon as someone comes near. He grins and laughs and teases Steve and yeah, he’s falling pretty damn hard for the guy.

School is the worst. Billy might be soft and sweet with him behind closed door, but in school, with hundreds of eyes on him and words in danger of getting back to his dad at any given time, its same old Billy.

Its fine, Steve gets it. Hawkins is a small town, it has its fair share of old timers who still say racist shit and it’s got plenty of people that would be disgusted to know what Billy and Steve get up to behind closed doors. On top of that, Billy’s got his dad to worry about, so he shuts up and just enjoys what he has, greedily taking any moment he’s got with Billy. Because, despite it all, he can’t help but shake the feeling that they’re on a timer.

“Woa, Steve, watch out you’re going to miss -”

A large, warm hand wraps around Steve’s on the handle of the spoon and he’s snapped back out of his wandering thoughts. He’s been so wrapped up in his head he didn’t realize he was spooning food out absentmindedly, nearly spilling it on the counter. Billy steadies his hand and glances at him, a small look of concern on his face. He opens his mouth to speak but suddenly, there’s kids everywhere grabbing at plates and cutlery and the moment is gone.

They all retreat back into the living room, squashing in to the couches and chairs, Max and Lucas taking the floor, Mike, Dustin, El and Will squeezed in on the couch and Steve takes up the love seat. He starts digging in to his food then nearly has a heart attack when Billy is full on vaulting over the back of the seat, plopping down next to Steve, plate heaped with food balanced precariously in his hand.

“Fuck – Billy watch it!”

“Keep your panties on, Princess, just getting comfy.”

He grins at him, wiggling his eyebrows and Steve can’t find it in him to be all that annoyed. A larger part of him just happy to get the excuse to sit so close with him.

They all eat in relative silence, re-runs of Scooby-Doo playing on the TV. Billy eats like he’s been starving his whole life, wolfing down bite after bite to Dustin and Mike’s disgust. Will finds it funny. He finds everything Billy does funny.

“Dude, try to remember to breathe, you’re putting me off my casserole over here,” Dustin complains, fork paused halfway to his mouth as he stares over at Billy in disgust.

“Eat my ass, curly,” Billy says around a mouthful of food and Will giggles, matching Steve’s grin.

“He always eats like that,” Max pipes up, “when I first moved in, if you didn’t eat fast, Billy got to it and you didn’t eat at all.”

“You calling me fat, Maxine?”

“I’m calling you a greedy pig, William.”

She sticks her tongue out at Billy who opens his entire mouth, presenting his half-chewed food to the red head who groans and throws one of the couch cushions at him. Billy dodges it easily, chucking gently and Max shakes her head, returning to her food. Steve shakes his head fondly at them, still not quite used to them getting along but glad of it.

“Thought no one gets to call you William?” Steve murmurs to him, just loud enough for him to hear.

He chuckles and scoops up the last of his food, “I make an exception for the ones I like.”

 He shifts a little in his seat when Billy gets up and heads to the kitchen, plate licked clean. Steve’s gaze gets caught in the sway of those hips as he makes his way to the kitchen, the blond throwing a wink over his shoulder at Steve, knowing fine well his gaze is heavy on him. Steve fights a grin and shakes his head, turning back to his food and finishing off his plate.

He takes empty plates from the rest if the kids, Mike pulling out D&D, a subtle hint that they’re going to be completely absorbed in the game soon, giving Steve some time in which to not worry and fuss over them. He takes the plates to the kitchen and starts running the tap, soaping up a basin of water.

Billy’s nowhere to be found but Steve can smell the faint wisp of his reds wafting in from the back porch.

“So, do you guys like each other now or something?”

He turns to find Will standing there, arms stacked with the rest of the plates and cutlery. He takes them from him, placing them in the soapy water and busies himself with cleaning them. He’s not really surprised about his question. He knows Billy is about as subtle as a gunshot. The kids are smart, he’s long since stopped forgetting that about them.

“Something like that.”

Will takes up a dishtowel and starts drying the plates Steve washes, stacking them on the kitchen counter to be put away again.

“I like him,” Will decides, wiping at a fork, “he looks at you like how Hopper looks at my Mom.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat, scrubs at the already clean plate in his grasp, chest feeling light and warm.

“He’s a good guy,” he says, handing the last plate to will and drying his hands on a dishtowel as the kid puts them away in the cupboard.

“Go on, I’ll be in in a minute,” he says, ruffling Will’s hair and watching him grin and hurry back in to the living room.

Steve soaks the casserole dish in some hot, soapy water and lets it seep before heading to the back door. The night is cold and he shivers as he closes the door softly behind him. Billy turns to him, looking pretty in the soft light that peers through the curtains of the house. It paints his skin warm, makes his curls look like honey. He leans back against the porch railing, eyes sliding over Steve as he comes near, the deep opening of his shirt making Steve shiver.

“Seriously, man, are you ever cold?”

The blond shakes his head, smiling, “I burn hot.”

Steve shakes his head at him, plucking the cigarette out of his hand and takes a drag, “got the California sun soaked in your skin permanently?”

Billy grins and shifts along, letting Steve sidle up next to him, the wood of the railing squeaking a little under their combined weight.

“I think you’d look cute in a jumper.”

Billy barks a laugh at that, “have you met me, princess? I’m not cute. I’m hot.”

Steve turns to him, tucks the cigarette in to those pink lips and presses their bodies together, “you’re adorable, Billy Hargrove.”

Billy rolls his eyes but takes a drag of the smoke the ember burning red, glowing in the low light. Steve can practically feel its heat on his cheek he’s so close. Billy pulls it from his mouth with one last suck and throws it away, blowing out the smoke above their heads and leans down to kiss Steve.

Stave’s arms loop around his neck, feeling those strong shoulders of his and the soft tickle of his hair. He kisses him leisurely, like he’s trying to remember every inch of his mouth. His lips are firm but soft, his hands hold him in their strong embrace, but his finger tips trace small circles on his hips. He sags his weight against the blond and surrenders to the kiss completely. Its one of a thousand kisses he’s shared with the boy since they started all this up, but Steve feels like it the first each and every time.

He could fall in love with this. With the press of his lips and the taste of his tongue. The soft silk of his curls and the gold of his skin. The dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose that he adamantly refuses are there. The crystal blue of his eyes, sparkling like how he imagines the California ocean does. The roll of those muscles beneath his skin, like the roll of the waves. The way he holds Steve like he’s afraid he will disappear. How he licks at his skin, tasting the salt and sweetness of his mouth, his neck, his thighs his cock. He could fall in love with everything that Billy Hargrove is in a heartbeat. 

He doesn’t realize he’s stopped kissing him, doesn’t realize Steve’s been staring in to those eyes, lost in thought until Billy shakes him gently, “what’s wrong?”

The words are thrumming in his chest, clawing up his throat, clambering over his tongue and begin to pry his lips apart. He wants to tell him, wants to tell him everything he’s feeling. How much he’s feeling. How much this asshole means to him.

But he can’t. He’s not sure how Billy will react. He doesn’t know if he feels the same. If he can feel that way for someone again.

So instead, he says, “I’m just trying to picture you in the ugliest Christmas jumper I can.”

That earns him a laugh, “fuck you, asshole.”

“Been there, done that, _William._ ”

Billy’s grins down at him, fingers caressing Steve’s cheek and he looks at the brunette softly.

“I like you, pretty boy.”

Steve feels his chest tighten, “I like you too, asshole.”

That smile widens and he kisses Steve softly, hands cradling his jaw, fingers curled around to the nape of his neck.

They jerk apart when they hear the door knob rattle, door flying open to see Dustin glaring out at them, “can you two dickheads stop making out all over the place and get back in here, I was promised chocolate pudding for dessert.”

Steve chuckles and follows the curly haired boy back in, tugging a reluctant Billy along with him. He makes himself busy again getting the kids their desserts. Billy returns to the living room and Steve tries to keep his mind away from brooding thoughts.

 

 

V

 

 

 

The first time Steve had done this, he had been nervous as hell. He had constantly worried he was doing it wrong, or that Billy was just pretending to enjoy himself. Or that he would be so bad at it Billy would have swiftly ended everything that was going on with them right then and there.

Afterwards, his jaw had ached, his eyes were watering but Billy had held him close, kissed his flushed cheeks and breathlessly told him how good he was. And Steve quickly realized that he liked it.

Like, really, _really l_ iked it. To the point where Billy teased him and kept calling him a goddamn cockslut.

He smiles at the memory as he kisses his way down Billy’s chest, tonguing and nipping here and there, delighting in the little moans and sighs he elicits from the boy. His hands rove up and down Billy’s sides, always marveling at how soft his skin is, even the light dusting of hair here and there are the softest things. He smells like the sea, like its soaked into his blood, always a part of him no matter how far away from it he is. He tongues his way along the curve of his hipbone, grinning when his skin jumps beneath his ministrations. He trails his fingers along the waistband of Billy’s y-fronts, chuckling as the skin jumps beneath his ministrations, hands coming up to drip on to his shoulder, a shuddering breath released.

He shuffled lower, nuzzles his way down the soft cotton until he’s got his lips pressed against the hard, hot tent in them. He mouths at Billy there, glancing up to watch that body contort and writhe on his bed sheets, Billy’s fingers tangling and untangling in them when Steve licks along the line of him. Billy’s fucking gorgeous like this. Against the white of Steve’s sheets, he’s tan skin and messy gold hair and washboards abs, toned muscle, ocean blue eyes and its fucking breath-taking.

Steve hooks his thumbs in the hem, tugging his underwear down and off him, whimpering when Billy’s cock is released from the fabric, curling up to his stomach where it sits hot and heavy against his skin. A pearl of pre-come glistens at the tip and Steve dips his head, licks at it, causing Billy to curse and buck in to the touch. He sucks him in to his mouth, moaning around him at his salty sweetness, settling back down on the mattress between his legs.

He releases him again, tonguing at the slit, then leans down to lick him from base to shaft. Billy’s moans edge him on, feed his confidence, make him preen with happiness at the praise. He swirls his tongue around Billy’s head and sucks him down, further than before, hollowing his cheeks. He smiles around him when fingers tangle in his hair, his name breathed over and over again in a gentle, breathless rush. Blue eyes watch him as he sucks him, tongue working at the bottom of him, delighting in the heavy weight of him on his tongue.

“Shit, Steve, you were fucking made to suck cock,” Steve hums in agreement, watching Billy shudder, feeling him buck in to his mouth, pressing needy against the back of his throat, feeling it tighten around him. Billy tugs on his hair as he takes him faster, deeper, sucks harder until his jaw hurts but he doesn’t dare relent. Its messy, he’s slurping and drooling but he can’t help his enthusiasm and he knows Billy loves it like this. He’s watching him with a heavy gaze, eyes hooded and trained on the stretch of his lips, biting his own at the wanton noises Steve makes. He’s thrusting gently into Steve’s mouth and his stomach contorts and his chest heaves with his breathing. Steve can see his self-control wavering in his eyes and it send a shiver down his spine.

“Fuck, baby, so good, so fucking good, I’m going to come - “

Steve hums again in encouragement, hands holding Billy’s hips down, bobbing his head, moaning and slurping and shivering at the steady tug of Billy’s fingers in his hair, the needy moans escaping him that are getting louder, breathier.

He gives his hair once more pull in warning and thrusts in to Steve’s mouth as he comes. Steve swallows it down, moaning and grinding down against the mattress as he takes it in, all of it. Billy’s taste, the hot release of him, the pulsing of his cock in his mouth, the shuddering of his body, the loud moaning, Steve’s name on his tongue like a prayer.

Billy thumps his head back on the mattress, chest heaving as he comes down from his high. Steve rest his cheek on his stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. He grins and feels drugged, feels high and drunk on the euphoria of pleasing Billy, its addictive. Billy’s hands move across his skin, rubbing across his shoulders, rubbing circles in to his scalp unconsciously, trying to regain his breathing.

“Shit – that was so, so good.”

Steve chuckles, surging up his body to kiss his waiting mouth. Billy’s hands cup his head, tilting him to taste himself on his tongue and moans against him. It has Steve’s cock twitching in his own briefs, grinding down unconsciously against Billy’s hip, seeking much needed relief.

“My turn,” Billy growls against his mouth, and suddenly he’s been flipped, pressed in to the mattress on his stomach, Billy’s thighs bracketing him in.

Billy mouths at the back of his neck, teeth scraping across sensitive skin, sending shivers coursing all down his body. His mouth teases him here and there, kissing his way down his back, licking against the sensitive little spots he’s become more than acquainted with. Steve shivers and writhes when he reaches the small of his back. He trails his blunt fingernails across his skin, tongue and lips following, chuckling when Steve whimpers, hips pressing down in to the mattress.

“So good baby, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he murmurs against his skin and hooks his fingers in his briefs, prompting him to lift his hips so he can slide them off until he’s got him naked beneath him.

His mouth returns then, tongue gliding down his spine and he fills his hands with the plush of Steve’s ass, kneading and squeezing at the plump flesh. Steve’s fisting the sheets, body tingling all over, head swimming with the stimulation. Billy’s nails dig in to the swell of his cheeks and he shifts again, pulling them apart and snakes his tongue out to lick at Steve’s entrance.

The brunette shudders, moaning in to the mattress, spreading his legs, angling his hips to give Billy better access. Billy hums in appreciation, tongue pressing more insistently against him. He licks from his balls to his ring, massaging the muscle with the flat of his tongue until Steve’s setting up a steady rock of his hips back and forth, pressing needy in to the mattress and back against his tongue, desperate for release.

“Billy, Billy please, more -”

Billy bites at the plush of one of Steve’s cheeks and sucks hard, pulling him up at the same time until he’s on his knees, chest resting on the mattress, unable to thrust down for friction. He whines, needy and Billy swats his ass playfully, licking his teeth at Steve’s answering moan.

“Patience, princess, I’ll give it to you good.”

Steve moans, his voice is wrecked and deep and husky and he knows he’s not going to survive this. At this angle, he’s completely on display to Billy. It used to embarrass him, but Billy tells him how good he looks like this, how pretty and perfect he is and how much he wants him and it throws all of Steve’s inhibitions to the wind. Because that’s one of the most amazing things about Billy. Steve’s fear, his self-consciousness, his nervousness and his low self esteem all go flying out the window where Billy’s concerned. He doesn’t need to say anything, that’s not Billy’s way, guy just has a way of making Steve feel special, like he’s worth it, he looks at Steve sometimes like he’s hung the moon in the sky and it’s the best feeling Steve had ever known.

Billy’s tongue licks at him again, his hands holding his hips up, thumbs caressing the skin. He sucks around the puckered ring of muscle, then spears his tongue and dips in, teasing, gentle. Steve moans, bucking back in to the feeling and Billy rumbles a moan against him, dipping his tongue in and out slowly.

“Fuck – Billy.”

He sinks a finger in to him, curling it until he pressed against that spot inside him that has Steve seeing stars. He gently thrusts in and out, tongue still working at his ring, deepening his thrusts, pulling him closer. Steve’s cock hangs heavy and hard between his legs, pulsing and begging for release. Billy adds a second finger and picks up his thrusts, moaning against Steve’s skin like a fucking pornstar and Steve bite’s down on a pillow, groaning low and long.

“Look at you, you look so good like this, Steve.”

“Billy, please, get in me already – fuck -”

Billy doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans back, hand fumbling at the night stand and pulls out the bottle of lube there and a condom. Steve hears the rip of the wrapper, then there’s two lubed fingers gently rubbing at his ring, sinking back in, working him over while Billy slides the rubber on. He feels like he’s about to burst with anticipation when those fingers pull away and finally _finally_ he feels the blunt, big head of Billy’s cock. He presses in to him slowly, gently, sliding in then stopping, then more, then stopping, until he’s seated in him fully. His hips press against the plush of Steve’s ass and Steve feels so full, like he’s going to burst.

“So tight, baby, Jesus,” Billy drags a hand down his back, settling on his hips as he pulls out slowly, thrusting back in right to the tip, until Steve feels like he can feel him in his chest. He ruts back against him, not giving a shit about how wanton he looks. Billy takes the hint, picking up the pace, thrusting in and out, the steady drag of him aching in Steve’s gut. His hands hold him strong, his cock big and filling him just how he needs. He thrusts faster, Steve’s vaguely aware of the headboard banging against the wall but he can’t find it in him to care.

He’s consumed by the feeling, the pleasure that is tingling all over his body, the way Billy grunts, his hands gripping his waist, the moans Steve’s gasping out in to the pillow. His cock slaps against his stomach and he wants to reach down and touch himself, give some relief to the torture.

Billy tugs him back, pulls him up until he’s kneeling with him, back pressed against his chest and his hot breath is in his ear. Steve can feel him deeper this way and it has him letting out a string of moans, bouncing back on Billy’s cock. He holds him by the throat against him, moaning against his skin, hot, slick and covered in sweat. His other hand reaches around to take him in hand and Steve whimpers, bucking into it, Billy’s thrusts going faster, needier. He strokes him in time with his movements, licking and biting down on his shoulder.

“Come for me, baby,” he says, voice husky and breathless and has Steve’s dick jumping in his tight grasp, “let me see you, Steve.”

That tongue of his sneaks out, licking at his skin, his sweat. He’s reaching so deep inside him, the tight pressure of his fist around him, the hot panting against his neck, Steve’s overcome. He moans loud, head thrown back against Billy’s shoulder as he finds his release, shooting all over Billy’s hand. Billy’s arms hold him close, his hips stuttering in to him and he swears and groans loud, face buried in Steve’s neck as he finds his release. He sags against him, both of them falling down on to the mattress, breathing heavy.

They lie still for a while, catching their breaths. Steve’s heart feels like its going to thunder right out of his chest. Billy’s arms are heavy as lead around him, his breath hot against his throat, his teeth pressing in to hi skin through his smile.

“Fuck me, Harrington,” he manages to pant out, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

Steve grins, head fuzzy, limbs feeling like they’re made of jelly. Billy moves, pulling out of him slowly and he hears him pull of the condom, tying it and throwing it on the floor. Steve’s long since gave up on yelling at him to walk the two steps across the room to the en suite and putting it in the bin.

Steve watches him lean over the side of the bed, nearly falling out as he fishes to retrieve his jacket from where Steve had tossed it to the floor earlier. He tugs out his pack of reds and passes one to Steve, lighting it for him, then his own. Steve grabs the coffee mug he’s been using as an ash tray and balances it on his knee between them.

He watches Billy smoke, the hollow of his cheeks, the swirl of it in the air like the lazy curl of his hair. He watched the way he holds the filter between thumb and finger, rolling it out of habit. The ring glints on his finger. He knows who gave him it, what it means. His eyes shift down to the necklace that’s forever around his neck and takes another draw of his smoke.

“What does your necklace mean?”

Billy blows out smoke rings in the air above them and Steve thinks he might not answer. He tried to teach Steve how to do that once, he had failed miserably. Though, to be fair, they had been smoking a joint and Steve had been laughing too hard to really concentrate on what he was doing. Then, Billy had giggled out something about his sex-ruffled hair making him look like a cockatoo and that had just ended them in at least half an hour of giggling.

“St Flora of Beaulieu.”

Steve had guessed it was something religious. It was worn and old but he could just make out the faded figure of a robed woman, one hand held what looked like a cross.

“Does it mean anything?”

Billy takes a long draw of his cigarette, flicking the ash in to the cup and avoiding Steve’s eyes.

“She’s the patron saint of the abandoned and the betrayed. My mom gave it to me before she left. Ironic, huh?”

He laughs and its bitter, reminding Steve of the old, hard as nails Billy he used to hate.

He can feel this moment. He can feel it like a glass dome surrounding them, glass cracking, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. He wants to be careful, he knows this is probably the most honest Billy will ever be with him, the only time he’ll ever talk about this.

“What was her name?”

It seems like an age before Billy replies.

“Monica.”

Monica. Its strange, just learning her name, he feels like he knows her. He wonders if she had golden curls like Billy’s, ocean blue eyes, golden California sun kissed skin.

“What was she like?”

Billy taps his cigarette against the rim of the cup, bringing it back to his lips to draw more in. He blows it out in a sigh. He’s beautiful like this, Steve finds himself thinking, studying his profile. His blue eyes swim with tears, the whites tinged pink. His cheeks are flushed and he has this small, sad smile on his lips. He keeps it there while he talks, looking beyond Steve’s bedroom to somewhere else.

“She used to sing,” he says, voice low and scratchy, “there was this one song she loved, sang it all the goddamn time.”

He leans over and stubs out the cigarette, taking the cup off Steve when he’s done the same and that seems to be the end of the conversation. He leans over to place it on the bedside table and lies on his side, back to Steve. Steve stares at him in silence for a bit, unsure how to proceed.

Billy glares at him over his shoulder, “spoon me, bitch.”

Steve grins, fighting the laugh and shuffles over, pressing his body against Billy’s, snaking his hand around his waist, the other thrust under the pillow supporting his head. He never gets sick of how well Billy’s body fits with his, like he’s been made just for Steve. He buries his face in those curls, breathing in the smoke, the sea, the smell of the Camaro, the sweet of his shampoo and hair products.

He’s dozing off when Billy starts singing, a low rumble in his chest. It’s a song Steve recognizes, his Mom used to play it on her records at Christmas when he was younger.

_‘you’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.’_

His voice is surprisingly nice, carrying each note effortlessly. Feeling the rumble of Billy’s voice, soft in the dark of his room, the sun fading in the sky.

_‘You’d be like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much.’_

He feels his eyes getting heavy, lulled to sleep by the warm comfort of Billy’s body, the steady hum in his chest.

_‘At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive.’_

He falls in to sleep, blue eyes and a soft voice following him in to his dreams. When he wakes up, the early morning sunlight filtering through his curtains, he’s alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Long ass chapter there.  
> Soft Billy is going to be the death of me.  
> this chapter's purpose is mostly to develop the relationship between Billy and Steve, setting up more of the timeline.  
> I wanted to go in to Billy's relationship with the gang, specifically with El. I feel like these two have a few things in common in term of Papa and Neil. I also wanted to bring a little more Will and Steve in to the mix, i love Dustin but i really want these two to interact more i think they would get along great. Another dynamic i wanted to explore was Max and Billy, i drew on a few of my own experiences with a sibling that i have had a huge amount of conflict with in the past and even to this day, trying to explore the softer side of Billy with Max and the underlining love he has for her despite their circumstances.  
> I am sorry if Billy seems a little out of character in terms of how he treats Steve, i just ave a massive head canon that he is soft only when he is with guy intimately because that is when we will see him at his most vulnerable. I want there to still be some barriers between Billy and Steve, as seen near the end of their time at the Byers, reasons i will explain in later chapters.  
> Finally, i wanted to explore Billy and his Mom more. The necklace is unconfirmed as far as i could research. After staring at this image: https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/9638925/wv_publicity_pre_launch_A_still_56.000001.jpeg for a good few hours I made a guess. After being distracted by how pretty Billy is.  
> The only reasoning i have to think it is St Flora is because my Nana has a st flora medal in her church that looks very, very similar to the one Billy wears. I researched other medallions and even went as far as to ask my Nana's priest (ty, Fr. Gerry) but he just looked at me strangely when i showed him a pic of Billy so i quickly exited the convo.  
> My theory is that Billy's Mom left, Neil seems bitter about it instead of sad. Unless, of course, that sadness is because of her death and that is why he directs so much anger to Billy - perhaps because he reminds him too much of her, I’m not sure. I didn't want to delve too deep psychologically with this one because i had a theory that fit the story well so I'm going with that.  
> Still loving writing this story, please keep telling me what you guys think and thank you to everyone that has been helping me correct any mistakes! In saying that, I am Scottish and i have only visited the states once so if there is any American terms i have got wrong or anything that jumps out at anyone with more knowledge on the subject that feels off please let me know!  
> Love to you all  
> Vee


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He takes a drag on his smoke and closes his eyes, resting his head back against the railings. Steve shifts a little, smoking quietly.  
> “I’ve been thinking.”  
> “Hope it didn’t hurt too much.”  
> Steve shoves his shoulder against Billy’s, “shut up, you ass.”  
> Billy chuckles around his cigarette and takes another drag, blowing out the smoke and watching it curl up into the rafters above them.  
> “I want to tell my parents. You know, to come out to them.”

_Max must know something was wrong. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since their argument that morning. He had dropped her off to school as always, waited until she had disappeared in to the building before speeding of to the hospital. When he picked her up again, face ashen and cold, she stayed silent the entire ride home, running ahead of him to the front door as soon as they got to their drive._

_Billy pauses at the front door, heart heavy, exhausted. He’d give anything not to go in to the house right now. He’d been at the hospital all day, waiting when David’s parents wouldn’t let him in the room. Pacing up and down the corridor, refusing to go back to school. Not now, not while he was like that. David’s brother had spoke to him, though. He had told him the police were looking for the guy, suspected it was a racial attack._

_“They’re hardly any help, though,” he had muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face as he sat beside Billy outside David’s room._

_“Most of the guys on the police are racist assholes themselves, guy’s probably going to get away free. They probably aren’t even going to look for him, not really.”_

_Billy sighed, pushing open the door and shut it firmly behind him. He could hear Max telling Susan about her day in the kitchen. He heard the low murmur of his father’s voice and felt sick. He hadn’t seen him since leaving with Max last night. He was still to receive his punishment for neglecting her._

_Then he noticed those heavy, steel toed boots his father had from years ago when he worked the factories, the boots that had remained in the back of his father’s closet since Billy was just a kid. Boots that were suddenly clumsily thrown underneath his father’s bed, just hidden but not well enough. The red catches his eye and he pauses, pulling out the burgundy shirt from under the bed._

_Only it’s not burgundy. It had been a light khaki colour once, but now, it was drenched in so much blood, dried brown it looks burgundy._

_Billy’s hands shake. His head swims. His stomach drops._

_They said it had been a racial attack._

_He walks out in a daze, the world around him muffled, sounds swimming around and far away like he’s underwater._

_The police weren’t putting much effort in to looking for the guy. It was a suspected racial attack._

_He stumbles into the kitchen where Susan is pulling the dinner out the oven and his father is drinking a beer at the table. He glances up when Billy shuffles in, his frown deepening when his eyes find the shirt held tight in Billy’s hands._

_They said it had been a racial attack._

_“What did you do?”_

_Billy doesn’t recognise his own voice._

_“Susan, go wait in the garden with Maxine, please.”_

_His voice is calm, almost like he’s expecting this. Like he’s been looking forward to it. Susan hurries out the door, casserole left forgotten on the counter. Billy stumbles closer, tears blurring his eyes as he looks down at his monster, sitting there, drinking his beer._

_“What the fuck did you do?”_

_Neil clenches his jaw, rising slowly, suddenly towering over Billy._

_“I didn’t do anything, William. You did this.”_

_Billy feels his heart sink to the floor._

_“No – no, how could you?”_

_Neil shoves him, watches him go flying back, eyes wild and angry._

_“I did what I had to, boy,” he spits in Billy’s face, I told you to stay away from that blackie. You disobeyed me. And I told you what happens when you disobey me.”_

_Billy can only stare up at him in horror as it all clicks in to place._

_“Y-you break things.”_

_He nods, coming closer, glaring down in to Billy’s face._

_“You left Max to go get bent over like some fucking fairy. You disobeyed my orders and made her lie to me about it. I go to find you, and I see you embarrassing me in front of the entire town, parading yourself around like the faggot you are with that fucking batty boy.”_

_Neil grabs him by his throat, throws him back against the wall. His fingers squeeze hard, hard enough to make Billy feel the blood rushing in his ears._

_“When I’m done with you, no one is going to look at you twice.”_

_His fist connects with his face, blood spurting out again and pain blooms hot and real across his head. Then another hit, then another. Billy falls to his knees, Neil follows him down, grabbing him by his hair, yanking hard enough to rip it out of his head. His knee connects with Billy’s face and he goes sprawling. He doesn’t even have time to recover, a foot connects with his ribs Then again. Then again. Billy curls in on himself, the blows coming down hard and fast, fuelled by pure rage._

_He can hear Max screaming, hear Susan begging Neil to stop. He can taste nothing but blood and his head reels. The kicks keep coming. Billy can’t breathe, can’t move. His entire body burns. He lays there, blows raining down, his ribs, his back, his head. He feels his ribs crack and break. He feels his head ring, his vision swoop and blur, his hearing fuzzed and far away._

_“Neil, please, you’re going to kill him!”_

_Neil is screaming, screaming at Billy to get up, to fight back, be a man. He screams as he kicks, as he punches as he throws down all of his anger on his son._

_The last thing Billy sees before his world goes black is those rage fuelled eyes._

_V_

 

 

Billy’s leg bounces with pent-up energy. He’s fidgety, smoking his cigarette fast, lighting another, fingers drumming on the wheel of his car. He’s got the door open, sitting sideways in the driver seat, boots on the ground, pretending to lounge and smoke. He’s giving the façade of someone that’s just killing time before the school bell rings to start the day, but really, he’s waiting. Waiting what feels like a goddamn long ass time.

Its been nearly a week since he’s seen Steve. Neil’s been hovering, watching him. He’s been with Max more, he’s been compliant, taking her wherever she wants to go without complaint. He’s been sticking by her side through all of these trips and he’s been bringing her home again afterward. He’s been obedient and Neil has noticed and it’s made him suspicious.

Max told him he’s been questioning her about where he’s been going and what he’s been doing, she covered for him, not really having to lie because he _has_ been with her all the time. Every time Steve is there too, at least. They’ve been careful, so they have been lying low the past week. Billy’s been kept busy by Neil, Steve’s parents have come home for Christmas so he’s had less free time and a suddenly full house. They’ve not touched all week and Billy’s skin is _itching_ with it. He’s frustrated and horny and antsy and just wants, _needs_ the brunette’s skin on his, his mouth, his voice or he will go mad.

The low purr of Steve’s BMW is like music to Billy’s ears and it has him jumping out, slamming the door shut and leaning against the Camaro’s side, thumb flicking at the filter of his smoke. He kicks a foot up to rest against its door and drums his hand on his knee as he watches the car glide in to an empty space near the school entrance. Billy’s heart is near enough in his throat, butterflies thrumming in his stomach as he watches avidly as the door is pushed open.

Out comes Steve, all long limbs, fluffy, red jumper and fluffy hair and Billy’s world stops spinning. He watches the brunette push the door shut, tug his backpack on to his shoulder and make his way to the entrance. Like a sailor called to the sea, Billy crushes his cigarette beneath his boot and hurries after him.

By the time he throws open the doors to the school, the corridor is thrumming with people. He spots Steve at his locker, head buried in its depths as he retrieves his book for his first classes. Billy walks by, making sure to scuff his boots extra loud on the floor, wanting Steve to notice him. But the guy has his mind elsewhere it seems, his head remains buried in his locker.

Billy throws his own open, on the opposite side of the hall, a couple paces down. He shuffles books about, not really paying attention to what he’s doing, eyes shifting to Steve too often to really concentrate. He’s got his back to him and Billy’s starting to get annoyed He knows they are in school, knows they are meant to be enemies, knows that he can’t just go up to him, wrap his arms around him like he’s gotten so used to doing. God, he wants to, but he can’t.

He watches the Wheeler girl and the Byers guy come over to him, smiling and greeting him with hugs. Billy clenches his jaw when he watched their arms wrap around him, how easy it is for them to hold him, touch him, be near him. He watches Steve smile and laugh with them, leaning against his locker, hands shoved in to the pockets of his jeans.

Billy’s eyes don’t stop dragging over him, over the length of his legs wrapped in his jeans, the slope of his hip as he leans to the side, the strand of hair that falls cross his forehead. Billy’s leg starts bouncing again.

Then, his vision is filled by a smiling face and blonde hair.

“Hey, Billy, how ya doing?”

Jeanie, he thinks her name is, Jane, Jean, something like that. He remembers her vaguely from one of the parties. He had been staring at Steve laughing with Nancy and Johnathan all night long, gritting his teeth when the wheeler girl brushed a strand of hair out of his face and the byers boy had braced his hand on his arm while he laughed at something he said. Jeanie – or whatever he name is – had been flirting with him all night, dancing too close, smiling too much, eyes barely leaving him for a second. He had enjoyed it, he wasn’t going to lie, he enjoys any attention he gets. But his eyes had been for Harrington that night, every goddamn night since he had first saw him. When he was drunk enough and pissed off enough, he had dragged her in to a corner of the house and kissed her, pretending it was Steve. He had walked away, lips tasting like her strawberry Chapstick and that itch that had set in under his skin since he first laid eyes on King Steve had not been dampened.

“Peachy,” he replies stiffly, annoyed that the sheer volume of her hair has now blocked his vision of Steve.

“Been thinking about you, since that night at the party.”

She leans against the locker beside his, smiling up at him in what he guesses is meant to be seductive. She twirls a strand of hair around a finger and Billy already wants this conversation to end. He grunts in reply to her, slamming his locker shut and shifting his stance so he can look beyond her to Steve again.

“How about we skip next period, maybe pick up where we left off?”

He grinds his teeth as he watches the Wheeler girl smile up at Steve, leaning against the Byers boy.

“You’re not my type.”

He doesn’t look at her but he can sense Jeanie’s disappointment, but it only deters her a moment.

“What’s your type, then?”

Billy fights the smirk as he eyes that flop of perfectly sculpted hair down the corridor and looks back to the girl, eyeing her flouncing, blonde curls and her baby blues.

“Brunette, brown eyes, bit of a princess.”

“I can be that.”

 _Hung like a horse_. It’s on the tip of his tongue. How he wants to blurt it out, tell her all about how Harrington was who did it for him, the only goddamn one who really did it for him. The bell rings and it shakes Billy out his thoughts and he tries not to sneer at the girl.

“I’m not interested.”

He pushes past her, not giving shit if he’s upset her or not. His legs are carrying him before he even knows what’s going on. Marching him straight towards Steve. The corridor is emptying, The Wheeler girl and her boyfriend are nowhere to be found and he’s thankful. Steve shuts his locker and his eyebrows raise, not expecting Billy to be standing behind it.

“Hargrove?”

Billy bites his cheek, wanting those lips to form his name, his real name, not this. He’s getting damn withdrawals from being away from this boy. His eyes wont budge from those lovely pink lips. The taste of them, the sounds that escape them when Billy’s got his had on his dick, the way they curve at the corners when they breathe Billy’s name. Its been too long since he’s had him, he can’t wait another second.

“Bleachers. Now.”

He pushes past him, making sure to brush his arms against his, pinkie finger trailing against his hand and he walks off down the corridor. He throws the doors open and breathes deep when the cold, winter air fills his lungs. The grounds are empty, everyone rushing off to their first classes. He hears the doors slam shut behind him. He waits a beat then he breathes a sigh of relief when he hears them get pushed open again and a set of feet follow him along.

He ducks under the bleachers, climbing over a support bar and moves to the shadowed back, leaning against it, leg bouncing again. He watches those gangly limbs climb over the beam, that pretty head duck down under the seats and then Steve’s standing before him, big eyes, big smile.

“We’re going to be late for class.”

“Come here.”

Billy grabs the front of that stupid, fluffy jumper and kisses him firm and warm like he’s been waiting to do all goddamn week. His skin burns where Steve holds him, hands on his hips, heat searing straight though his clothes to his skin. His own fingers tangle in that ridiculous hair, moaning against his mouth when his tongue slips in to taste him. He could have cried when Steve presses him against the back railings, bodies flush, everything Billy has been craving.

Steve sighs into his mouth, fingers tugging his shirt out of his jeans to press cool and lovey against his heated skin. Its familiar, its real and its everything Billy has missed so desperately. He full on whines when Steve breaks the kiss, breathing hot against his skin.

“B-Billy, we’re going to get in shit for this.”

Billy growls out his frustration, fingers cupping Steve’s jaw to pull his mouth back to his, “don’t care”

He kisses Steve again.

“Why don’t you come over after school? Can do whatever you want to me then, parents are going out for dinner and a movie.”

“Hmm, I have a better idea. How about we do that, _and_ I give you a blowie right now?”

Steve shakes his head at him but he’s grinning. He glances round them, there’s no one for miles, they won’t get caught, he knows that.

“Come on, King Steve, where’s your balls?”

He bites his lips, fighting the grin. He sees the glint in Steve’s eyes, that little bit of fire that Billy thirsts for. Steve pushes him against the railings hard, Billy’s back thumping against them, taking the breath from him, grinning at Steve the whole while.

“How about I give you one?”

He grins, Steve’s hands dragging down his chest, brushing against his nipples, “as if I’m going to refuse.”

Billy’s chest warms at Steve’s answering grin and god, he really can’t get used to that face, how pretty he is how much he needs to be the reason for that smile. Steve sinks to his knees, hands undoing Billy’s belt. The blonde shudders, leaning back as Steve pulls him free of his confines, the cold air chilling his already heated skin. His half hard cock bobs against Steve’s chin obscenely and Billy wants the image burned in to his brain.

He watches avidly as that tongue sneaks out, licking him from base to tip and he thumps his head back against the railing, hands fisted at his teasing, Steve licking at him again and again. The guy is grinning up at Billy, obviously enjoying teasing him, eyes hooded and his hands cup his thighs through his jeans, rubbing almost tenderly.

“Steve – stop teasing,” Billy whines, bucking his lips forward, shivering when his wet head brushes against those lips.

Steve chuckles and takes pity on him, opening that lovely mouth and taking him in, sucking him down, right to the base. They had discovered early on that Steve is very good at supressing his gag reflex. He has since perfected it and it was going to be Billy’s undoing one day, he knows it. He watches in fascination as his cock disappears inch by inch in to that mouth, cheeks hollowing, lips stretching. Steve’s nose buries in the curls  at his base, Billy can feel the press of his throat, hot and wet and _tight_ and he shudders, hips stuttering, desperate to buck in.

“Fuck – fuck Steve, your mouth, baby -”

Steve moans, sending vibrations coursing through Billy’s body and he buries his fingers in that hair, grinning at the whine Steve gives him for messing up his do. He starts to pull off, widening his mouth, letting his teeth drag dangerously along his length and Billy gasps. The mix of danger and pleasure courses through his veins, the sight of Steve’s teeth dragging along him, sending a warning, mixed with the heavy desire in his eyes. He pulls right off, tonguing at his tip, tasting his pre-come, licking at his slit. Billy tugs at his hair, hips canting when that mouth engulfs him once more.

He moans and moans as he sucks him, the warm pressure of his mouth just right, his head bobbing back and forth, revelling in his little noises. Steve sucks him harder and faster, Billy’s cock twitching in his mouth.

Steve moans, hands clinging to him, shifting where he kneels.

Billy fists his hair again and Steve groans so low and long at the tug at his scalp that Billy nearly doubles over. Instead, he fists his other hand in his dark locks, and pulls him closer, watching with growing captivation as his length disappears into that mouth, feeling the back of his throat, Steve’s eyes watering at he looks up at him.

He pulls out slowly, those cheeks hollowing again and he trembles as he feels him increase the suction. He pulls himself out until the base of his head is beginning to re-appear then pushes back in again, feeling his throat flex and tighten but he doesn’t; push him away, just breathes through his nose, adjusts how he kneels and holds onto his thighs again. He’s still looking up at him in that way and Billy pushes in and out, fucking his mouth, gasping at his beautiful boy.

“God, Steve, you take me so well – you’re so good –. “

Billy can feel the pressure building inside him, limbs tingling, his release building closer and closer. He pulls away before he can finish, his length released from Steve’s mouth with a wet pop and fists himself, spilling into Steve’s open mouth.

“Fuck, fuck fuck, _Steve_ -” he shudders as he paints that pretty mouth white, his come spurting into it, some landing on his lips. Steve’s gasping and panting, sitting there and taking it. He swallows his load down, fucking licking his lips like it’s a dessert. He’s breathing hard through parted, swollen lips, cheeks flushed, eyes shining. He looks so fucking _beautiful._

Billy grabs him and pulls him to his feet, kissing his wet mouth harshly colliding with him, tasting himself on his tongue. Billy could kiss him for days, he decides, when he licks at his teeth, sucks on his tongue, bites at his lips.

“Billy – get me off, I’m so close -”

Billy jumps in to action, reaching down palm his member and bites his neck when Steve throws his head back in a moan, baring his neck for Billy to mark. The blond sucks hard here and there, Steve bucking wildly beneath him as he leaves dark bruises behind, the kind that won’t disappear for days, that will help him remember these moments when they’re done. He wants Steve walking the corridors of the school with Billy’s mark there for all to see.

“Your fucking mouth, Steve, you’re so good, making me come so hard, taking it so well. Taking my come, I want you to taste me all day, when you’re sitting in class, I want you to be thinking of my cock in your mouth.  Come on, Steve, come for me, baby, want to watch you. -”

He’s running his mouth at this point, babbling in to Steve’s open mouth. He’s hazy from his orgasm, driven with the need to give to Steve what he gave to him. He wants to see him come, wants it because he’s beautiful like that and it’s been too long since he’s seen it.

Steve trembles, hands clinging to Billy and Billy feel his come spurt over his hand, his dick twitching with the force of it. His knees shake and he’s moaning, panting in to Billy’s mouth, breathing out his name. Billy drinks him in, kissing him fiercely, stroking him through his orgasm until he shudders and stills. He sags against him, pressing his body in to the railing and blows out a sigh against his neck.

Billy grins, brings his hand to his mouth and licks it clean, Steve whimpering as he watches through hazy eyes.

“F-fuck, that was so good -”

Billy grins, his voice is wrecked a he’s panting, clinging to Billy like he’s the very air he breathes.

When he seems rested enough, Steve pushes off him, backing away and tucking himself back in his jeans. Hs smirking at Billy, eyeing him up and down, lingering on his spent cock still hanging out his jeans.

“You think Brenda could do that as good for you?”

Billy blinks at him, tucking his own cock away, “who?”

“Brenda. She was talking to you this morning by your locker, don’t think I didn’t see you with her that night at Jack Baker’s party.”

So much for Jeanie.

“You jealous there, Stevie? Been watching me?”

Steve rolls his eyes but Billy can see something there. He leans forwards, tugs Steve to him, kisses him sound, unable to hide the smile that comes to his lips. He likes that Steve is watching him. He likes that gleam of jealousy in his eyes.

“No one does it quite like you can, princess.”

Steve grins and Billy feels that little bud of warmth in his chest at the sight. Steve kisses him soft, his lips warm, his hands cupping Billy’s jaw and Billy isn’t sure he wants to let him go. But they are at school, they have maybe another fifteen minutes until the bell rings for second class. He has to snap back to reality.

Steve seems to sense his thoughts, he’s gotten to know him like that. Billy’s not sure how that makes him feel. He’s never really had anyone know him. Not like Steve does.

Steve starts righting his clothes, running his hands through his hair in an effort to make it sit right again and look less like he’s just had marathon sex. Billy sits on the ground, tugs out his reds and lights one, holding it out to Steve to takes it with a smile, plopping down next to Billy, leaning back against the railings. His long legs stretch out next to Billy’s, pressed against his and Billy lights his own smoke. He’s sat so close, he’s warm and Billy wants to roll over and curl into him.

He takes a drag on his smoke and closes his eyes, resting his head back against the railings. Steve shifts a little, smoking quietly.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Hope it didn’t hurt too much.”

Steve shoves his shoulder against Billy’s, “shut up, you ass.”

Billy chuckles around his cigarette and takes another drag, blowing out the smoke and watching it curl up into the rafters above them.

“I want to tell my parents. You know, to come out to them.”

He’s silent.

“I hate all this hiding, I hate having to keep my mouth shut around them. I want them to meet you, I want them to know me.”

“You think they will be okay with it?”

He shrugs, “they barely give a shit as it is, it’s more just for me to not have to tred on eggshells around them. I just want this part of me out, if it’s just to them, then fine.”

Billy takes another, long drag. He flicks the filter and tongues his cheek.

“Well, Godspeed to you.”

“I want you there.”

That has him choking on smoke.

“What?”

Steve looks at him calmly, all big, brown puppy dog eyes. “I want you there, with me.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Of course.”

Billy feels like he could laugh, albeit a bit hysterically, “not going to happen, princess.”

“Come on, I want them to meet you.”

He flicks the cigarette away and stands. Old guilt, fear, anger, all that poison floods his system. He’s bouncing a little, panicking.

“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m going to be your fucking girlfriend, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs, “you’re really going to try that shit with me?”

Billy grits his teeth and lights another smoke, Steve watching him in that calm way as he does, “look, who gives a damn whether people know or not? You and I know, that’s all this is. What does it matter whether or not we’re out?

Steve gets to his feet, flicking away his spent cigarette, “it matters to me. I want to be free. Don’t you want more? More than this? Is this really how you want to spend your life? Hiding under bleachers, acting like assholes to each other during school, sneaking around just to spend an hour or so together?”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Why not?” Steve’s gaze softens, he comes closer, looking at Billy imploringly, with so much feeling it makes his chest hurt, ‘don’t you want to be free?”

Billy wants to punch him. He wants to shove him and tell him to let this shit go. He wants this conversation not to happen. He just wants this to stay the same, just wants it to be his and Steve’s secret, where they’re safe, where Steve is safe.

“When I’m with you,” he says, voice low, feeling nervous. He’s not used to being open so much, Steve knows this. He’s been slow with him, he’s slow now, watching him, letting him explain himself, he knows what is at stake. “For this time, I can be free. That’s enough for me.”

Steve’s eyes are sad, his face gentle, he looks at Billy like he’s hung the moon in the sky, but his eyes are dull, “it’s not enough for me.”

Billy grits his teeth, steps out of Steve’s space, pulls on his smoke, “the fuck do you want from me, Harrington?”

“I want you to stop hiding from yourself.”

Billy looks at him, feels the ember of his cigarette burning his finger. He drops it, crushes it beneath his boot and doesn’t know what to say.

“You’re afraid.”

“Hell fucking yes I’m afraid,” he growls, shoving at Steve’s chest, frustrated.

“You should be too. This isn’t some fairy-tale, people like us, we draw the short straw. We get our assess beat and we’re lucky not to get killed.”

Steve shakes his head at him. He knows he’s being an ass. He knows he’s pushing him away. He’s angry and frustrated and panicking and this is what he does, what he knows.

“You’re a coward.”

That has Billy’s blood boiling. He gets close, real close to him. He looks at him and suddenly its like the past few weeks haven’t happened. Suddenly, he’s back in that house, face stinging from Steve’s fists, nothing but fire in his veins.

“You say that again and I’ll-”

“-What? You’ll what? You’ll beat the shit out of me? Been there done that. You think you’re a big, hard man? You think you can go through life fighting everything and everyone? Running from anything that’s real? From me? You’re too chicken shit to be who you really are.”

Billy deflates.

“I don’t have a choice.”

He watches Steve’s eyes sadden, shoulders deflate, he watches his edges go soft and it hurts Billy because he’s always so goddamn gentle with him and it’s not anything he ever thinks he will get used to.

“Billy, there’s always a choice.”

“Not for me. If word gets back to my old man, my ass is grass.”

Steve just looks at him, brow furrowed. Billy backs away, turning, hiding his face. His chest swells, fight or flight instincts kicking in and he’s floundering.

“I’ll fucking say it. Even if you won’t.”

The Steve is tugging him around to face him, glaring deep into his eyes, that fire he loves blazing hot and serious there.

“I love you. You’re an asshole and you drive me crazy sometimes but I love you. I love your stupid hair. I love your shirts that never get buttoned up. I love the way you drive, I love your crazy taste in music, I love the smell of you, the way you kiss me, the way you make me feel more alive than I ever fucking have in this miserable town.”

Billy’s staring at him. He’s got a lump in his throat, his hands are shaking. He wants to punch that pretty face, to kiss him, to grab him and run until its just a world with the two of them.

”I know you feel the same way, Billy. Just admit it. For once, just fucking be real with me.”

Billy’s blood is thrumming. This has all gotten too serious for him too fast. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to leave this shit behind. He was supposed to leave David in the past, move town, be a straight boy. Yet, here he was, staring in to the face of the guy he had been fucking for weeks and his chest ached because he wants to do this for Steve but he _can’t._ He’s littered with the scars, the memories don’t fade. He knows what will happen if his father finds out, and he will, he always does.

He squares his shoulders, sets his jaw. He regards Steve with a haughty look, feels himself become that person he used to be, the person he had hid behind for months, the person Steve despises.

“Listen closely, Harington. We are not boyfriend and girlfriend. I dont do that shit anymore. You are a good fuck, real good. That’s it. You want more, I walk away.”

Steve is just looking at him like he doesn’t recognise him.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

Billy sneers at that, pulls out another smoke, needing to keep his hands busy before he just grabs Steve and kisses him. He doesn’t like him looking at him like that. He takes a drag and forces himself to remain composed, blows the smoke in to the brunette’s face.

“Never claimed to be anything else, princess.”

Steve looks him up and down, lip curled in disgust. He back away, runs a hand through his hair and regards Billy like he’s lower than scum.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”

He turns and stalks off, jumping over the railings and Billy grits his teeth when his instinct is to run after him. He smokes and waits until he can’t hear his footsteps anymore. Then he waits until the far away ring of the school bell sounds and he crushes his cigarette beneath is boot.

“Me neither, pretty boy.”

 

 

 

V

 

 

 

There’s a strange loneliness to the Quarry tonight, like the very water knows to be silent. The moonlight filters through the heavy clouds, the trees rustle gently, bared of their leaves. The air is cold, the ground even more so, the first frosts of winter creeping in at night, chilling Billy down to his core.

The whiskey burns down his throat, warms his belly but it only lingers for a few moments before he chases the feeling with more. His fingers feel numb where they clutch the neck of the bottle. He bows his head, swaying a little, mimicking the wind in the trees. He feels numb all over, like Hawkins is claiming him like the snow claims the ground. The snowflakes seem to linger on his skin, little pin pricks of pain.

He takes another swig from the bottle and listens to the amber liquid clink in the glass. He’s never seen snow before, not in person. Its colder than he imagined, colder than anything he has ever felt before.

He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, Steve’s face blazed across his eyelids. He cant get the image out of his head. Steve standing there, looking at him in that way he does, like Billy might just be worth something more than his father’s fists. He looks at Billy like he’s something special, something more than just his skin. He had watched that look fade, replaced slowly by the cold, hateful look he gave him before. Word after word left Billy’s mouth and that old disgust returned.

He feels sick with guilt, sick with the whiskey, sick with himself.

Steve is right; he is a coward. He is afraid of his father, of the town people, of those fucking kids. He is terrified of being laid bare, of them knowing that deepest, darkest part of himself.

David had been the first to know, the first to look at Billy like that. He had ended up battered and bruised and within an inch of his life. If Steve only knew just what his father was capable of.

He thumbs the ring on his finger, feeling its cold weight.

No matter how far he runs, no matter how much he smokes or drinks or fights, there is always that part of Billy that he can’t kill. There is always that sliver of himself that is still there, in that hospital room, clinging to David’s lifeless hand, listening desperately to that _beep, beep beep_. He never thought he would forgive himself. He vowed then that if this was the price to be paid for his happiness, he would live his life miserable. He promised that he would just hide, be a good son, marry a pretty girl, have a brood of kids, settle down and work until he dies. That’s what he is supposed to do. That is safe.

He closes his eyes and he sees Steve lying in that bed and it terrifies him so much he chokes on it.  

But he wants the boy so much he can hardly breathe. He wants to take him to the beach. He wants to teach him how to surf. He knows he will be terrible at it but to watch him smile and laugh would be more than enough. He wants to watch that pale skin turn pink in the sun. He wants to kiss him on the pier and hold him and watch the sun go down. He wants all that goddamn romantic shit and when he pictures his life its Steve.

He downs the last of the whiskey and stumbles to his feet. He shuffles to the edge of the outcrop, tugging the ring from his finger and stares down at his reflection in its black depths. He extends his arms, hand poised and uncurls his fingers.

The ring hits the surface with a small plop and the ripples cascade in wide waves. He breathes in the Hawkins air and thinks of Steve and feels strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter - Christmas time is busy af!  
> Hopeful will have this finished by Christmas or Boxing Day at the latest!
> 
> Thanks again for everyone's kudos and comments they keep me going! 
> 
> V


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then he came along. Just when I was feeling at my lowest. Like if I just walked off the face of the earth no one would care. He came screaming in to Hawkins, calling me ‘King Steve’ and suddenly I had a reason again. That first hit, I felt more alive than I had in months. I didn’t feel numb anymore, I just had this rage built up inside me and he took it so well because he got it. He felt the same. It felt fucking amazing. Him and those kids that needed me. I suddenly feel like I have a family.”

_When he opens his eyes, all he can see is red. Bright, fiery, vibrant red._

_He blinks, eyes blurry, clearing as he wakes. The room is bright, all white lights. The bed he’s in is comfy, the most comfortable he’s ever known. He shifts and so does the red, moving upward and floating around like a flame. For a wild moment he thinks it really is fire, the room he’s in going up in flames._

_He blinks rapidly, scrunching his face up and he’s aware of the feeling of plastic at his cheeks, around his mouth. He breathes and hears the whir and click and tastes something sweet and artificial in his mouth. He fusses, hands moving, rising groggily but his limbs feel heavy._

_That flame moves, comes closer and he widens his eyes, ready to feel the heat, the burn. He scrunches his eyes shut and waits for the pain._

_“Billy? You awake? Billy?”_

_His vision clears, a hand comes up and helps him pull the plastic thing away from his face He breathes in cool, clean air and his eyes focus. Its Max. She’s looking at him worriedly, eyes red, cheeks stained with tears. Why is she crying? Had something happened? Was she hurt?_

_He surges up, looking around for the threat but shudders when pain flares across his abdomen._

_“Billy! Be careful,” he lets her help him back down, “you’ve got some broken ribs.”_

_Broken ribs?_

_He looks down at himself. He’s in a hospital bed, he realizes. One of his arms is in a cast, heavy and thick. His head hurts, his face feels like its on fire. He raises a hand to feel and realizes the reason his vision is bad is because one eye is swollen shut. His lip is split, swollen also. His ribs hurt the most, he wriggles his legs and is relieved when they seem to be fine, nothing broken at least._

_He remembered the fight. Remembers his father raining down blow after blow, Susan’s shouts for him to stop, Max’s screaming_

_He looks around the room but its empty, just Max here._

_“They’ve gone to get coffee,” Max answers his unspoken question._

_“Billy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he would do this to you, I swear. I thought he would just be angry, maybe hit you a little but not – not like this.”_

_Billy feels the lump in his throat, choking him painfully. He wants to pull her close, hold her, tell her its okay, she’s not to blame, no one but his father is to blame. He wants to push her away, scream at her for being so stupid, she had to wizen up if she didn’t want to get hurt too. But what kind of kid has to live like that? Like Billy did. Watching every move he made, checking how he goddamn breathed in order to keep his father’s anger at bay? He wants to cry, tell her everything, about David, about his Mom, all the scars marring his body that make up his relationship with his monster._

_He looks at her, she’s so goddamn young. She doesn’t deserve any of this._

_“Get out, Max.”_

_“Billy, please -”_

_“Just get out!”_

_He watches her face crumble and almost reaches out to grab her before she runs from the room. He squeezes his eyes shut against the pain, against the tears, against the world._

_He wishes it were different. He wishes his mom was here to hold him, to take he and Max away, to live a normal life. He wishes he could be the brother he wants to be, but he can’t. He’s too damaged, too dangerous. This way, without her having any feeling for him, she’s safe. Neil uses anything and everything he can against Billy. This way, hating him, terrified of him, wanting nothing to do with him, she’s safe._

_He doubles over, sobs wracking his body and he wishes for the millionth time his mother had just taken him with her._

 

 

V

 

Steve sits up in his seat when the front door to the Wheeler house swings open. Nancy slips out, smiling and waving and hurrying towards his car. He leans over the console and pushes the passenger door open for her, leaning back to let her slip her small form in.

“Hey,” she greets him with a smile, the car filling with her floral smell.

“Hey, Nance.”

She smiles as he watches her tuck her cardigan around her, angling her body towards his, looking over at him expectantly.

“So, what’s up? You seemed pretty upset over the phone, is everything okay?”

Steve blows out a sigh, gripping the steering wheel in both his hands and looks away from her, staring at the houses around her street. They’ve all got their Christmas decorations up, little colorful lights blinking in the dark. The snow has started falling, not enough to cover the ground just yet, but enough to chill the air and leave a frost on the grass.

“Steve?”

Her voice is quiet, gentle. He wonders what she thinks he’s going to say.

He looks back to her. She sits there all wide eyes, worried face. She’s everything he ever wanted once. Once upon a time.

“I like someone.”

“Oh,” he watches her eyebrows rise, her lips pull in to a little ‘o.’ She laughs, a small, breathless chuckle, “is that all? You had me worried, I thought it was going to be something bad.”

He stays silent, her expression changes from bemused to worried.

“Is it bad? Who is it, Steve?”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He looks anywhere but at her. He blows out a sigh, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“It’s Billy.”

She stares at him.

“Billy? As in Billy Hargrove?”

He nods, blood thrumming in his veins.

“Well, I _have_ noticed you both spending more time together. Johnathan mentioned he found it surprising that you and him were so…nice to each other, given what happened at his house.”

Steve grits his teeth, pressed his fingers in to the leather of his car seats and blows out a sigh.

“That fight. Nance, I had been pretending for so long that everything was fine. My friends were a bunch of assholes, making me feel like crap. You left me – and that’s fine, you’re happier and I’m happy for you and I honestly think it worked out for the better. You calling me bullshit and our relationship bullshit, it was right. You were so right. I realized that everything around me was bullshit. I had friends that didn’t give a shit about me and just made me act like a huge jerk. I had parents that wouldn’t know whether I was dead or alive, I was going back to that empty house and I had no one to tell anything to. I was empty, no one to connect with, not like you have with Johnathan, not like the kids all have.”

He takes a breath, eyes on the snow falling around them, everything that had been bouncing around in his head the past few months suddenly coming out in a rush.

“Then _he_ came along. Just when I was feeling at my lowest. Like if I just walked off the face of the earth no one would care. He came screaming in to Hawkins, calling me ‘King Steve’ and suddenly I had a reason again. That first hit, I felt more alive than I had in months. I didn’t feel numb anymore, I just had this rage built up inside me and he took it so well because he got it. He felt the same. It felt fucking amazing. Him and those kids that needed me. I suddenly feel like I have a family.”

He’s crying he realizes, tears burning hot and fast down his cheeks He looks to Nancy and sees she’s crying too, smiling over to him.

“It seems like you really like him, Steve.”

He laughs at that. He can’t explain how he feels about Billy. Its too much. Like is too small a word. Love is the same. He wants to consume Billy, to have him seep in to his skin, scar him so he’s always with him. He feels so free around the guy, like anything is possible. He never wants that feeling to go away.

“When I’m with him. It’s like, I can be me, _really_ be me. He makes me feel so good and he drives me crazy but I love him. I _love_ him, Nance.”

She’s smiling still, a small, melancholic smile. He wipes her tears away with his thumb, watching her chuckle, tug her cardigan closer and lean her head against the back of her seat, looking over to him fondly.

“So, you’re gay then?”

“I don’t know, Nance. I mean I still think of girls, like, I _like_ girls. But him, he’s just so – I think I like both, if that’s even a thing – I just don’t _know_ Nance.”

She shakes her head at him, reaching out and taking his hand in her own, thumb stroking over his skin softly.

“That’s okay, it’s okay not to know. If you love him and he loves you then that’s all the matters, right?”

Steve grips her fingers like they are a life line. Old anxiety, fear, sadness, it all comes boiling to the surface until he can hardly breathe.

“I don’t know of he feels the same way.”

She cocks her head, looking at him questioningly,

“We had a fight. I told him I wanted more, to come out to my parents and that I want him there. He said no then told me I was nothing to him and I walked out on him.”

She sits in silence for a while. Steve counts the seconds by watching the snowflakes fall.

“Steve, you don’t spend months with someone if they mean nothing to you.”

Steve looks at her. He feels his eyes sting with new tears. She’s right. Billy didn’t fake what they had. Each kiss, each touch, each look – Steve knew in his heart they were genuine. He knew that Billy truly felt for him deeply.

“I called him a coward. Told him he was too afraid of his Dad, of people finding out. I was an ass.”

She chuckles, thumbing his skin again.

“You were a bit of an ass.”

He smiles at her but feels a tug in his chest. Its strange but just that small confirmation from her makes him see everything clearly, how wrong he was to pressure Billy, how insensitive of him.

“Look, Steve, I don’t know what went on back in California with Billy, I don’t expect you to tell me – its Billy’s secret. But maybe you’re being too harsh on him. I can guess how his father is, we’ve all seen the bruises. Besides you, there’s been no gossip of him fighting with anyone. Whatever happened in Cali clearly terrifies him.”

He looks at her, feeling his mind clear, his anger trickle away like melting snow.

“It sounds to me like he really cares for you, maybe even more than anyone else in his life. Maybe that is scary to him. And maybe, he’s trying to protect you.”

He blows out a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face, through his hair, not giving a shit how messy it is. He leans back in his seat and glares at the inky, black sky.

“How the fuck am I going to fix this?”

Nancy tugs his hand back in to her lap, covers it with both her own, looks at him with those warm, loving eyes.

“Just say you’re sorry. Try to think what it’s like for him. You’ve got me and Johnathan, those kids, Mrs Byers and Hop, your parents; you’re surrounded by people who love and care for you. Billy? He might not have that. You’re probably the only person in his life he has ever been himself with and that makes him feel safe. To go from that to an entire town knowing and his father possibly finding out? I would panic too.”

He realises then how wrong he has been. Billy was clearly terrified f Neil. Steve might not know the full picture but having the threat of a beating is enough to be a huge threat. He might not know the whole story, but he knows enough to realize that Billy had been dealt enough bad hands in his life.

“I might not know a lot about this stuff,” Nancy says, “but this coming out, I imagine it can be terrifying. It can be something he might never want to do. If that’s the case, you need to be there for him, support him.”

Steve feels like an asshole. He scrubs his free hand over his face and sighs, leaning back in the seats, regarding Nancy.

“You’re right.”

She smiles softly, returning his hand to his own lap, patting it affectionately.

“Just make sure you’re happy, Steve.”

“I am, Nance, promise.”

She smiles, all dimples and bright eyes, “Good. Do you want to come in for a bit? My Mom’s making hot chocolates.”

He chuckles, remembering last year when he spent Christmas at her house, piled with food and hot chocolates. Enough to make him sick.

“No, it’s okay.”

“Okay,” she smiles, leans forwards and wraps her arms around his neck. Steve hugs her tight, breathing in the smell of her, feeling calmer, smiling when that little voice in his mind comments on how different she feels to Billy. How much he misses the guy’s arms.

When she pulls away, she kisses his cheek and smiles at him, “I’ll see you soon, and don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Thanks, Nance.”

“Anytime.”

He watches her get out the car, shivering in the cold air and hurry to her door. She pauses there, waving and smiling at him and disappears in to the warm glow of her house.

He reaches over and grabs the walkie sitting in the back seats, clicks the button and hears radio static before a familiar voice comes through.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up?”

“Dustin, I need a favor.”

 

 

V

 

 

 

The snow falls gently from the sky, setting on the ground, dusting the trees in white. Steve likes winter. He likes how everything looks clean, fresh, pretty. He likes Christmas, his parents come home for it every year. Its his mother’s favorite holiday and she always does it well. She makes a big dinner, his father puts up the nicest tree he can find. Christmas day is the only day of he year he feels like they are a normal family, his father and his mother sitting around the table with him, exchanging gifts they’ve brought him back from their travels.

Billy told him once that he’s never had a proper Christmas. His Dad was always drunk by night fall and his mother preferred to shut herself away in her bedroom. Now Max was with them, Susan insisted they put in the effort, but Billy just watches from the side-lines as they gave her gifts and his father threatened him with angry glares. He often just went out driving, drank some cheap booze and smoked his night away. That had made Steve’s chest ache and he wanted to have Billy over to his house for Christmas, show him how it could be.

He paces around the outcrop at the Quarry, watching the snow fall enough that the ground looks dusted with icing sugar, his sneakers melting dark prints in to them where he paces.

Soon enough, the place lights up and he turnes with his heart in his throat to the approaching headlights. He watches them turn as the car parks. They die and he hears the tell tale slam of an old door, the scuff of familiar boots and looks up to see him standing there.

“I’m surprised you came.”

Billy shifts from foot to foot, hands fidgeting and Steve knows he’s itching for a cigarette.

“I’m surprised you wanted to see me.”

Steve missed him. His eyes drag over the guy’s body and he itches to return to that embrace, in those arms.

“About the other day -”

“-I’m sorry.”

That stops him dead in his tracks.

“What?”

Billy shifts about, annoyed. He watches him grit his teeth, pick at a hole in his jeans before finally pulling out a cigarette. He lights it, drags in a breath and blows it out in a steady stream of smoke.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you about back in Cali. Something I don’t think Max has told you either.”

Steve feels his stomach drop. He feels like he’s heard enough. His father is an ass, made him break up with his boyfriend. His boyfriend then got beat up by some racist wanker and ended up in hospital. Billy got forced to move state by his father without even saying goodbye. What more could there be What was worse than that?

“It was my Dad that attacked David.”

“What?”

Billy shakes his head, takes another draw of his cigarette and moves to the outcrop edge, keeps his back to Steve.

“It wasn’t some racist. It was my Dad. I found his boots and his shirt covered in blood. I confronted him and he beat the shit out of me, put me in the hospital too. We moved here once I was out.”

He says it so matter of fact, like he’s simply commenting on the weather. His words make Steve’s stomach drop to his knees, his hands shake, his eyes sting with tears.

“Billy -”

The blond turns to him, fixing him with a wild gaze.

“My dad isn’t a joke, Steve. He’s dangerous. I think he would have killed David if he could have gotten away with it. I loved David and because of that he nearly died. I promised to never let that happen again and I’ve fucked it all up.”

His eyes are wild and wet. He’s pacing around, ranting, voice hoarse. Steve just stands there and watches, listens.

“You should never have gotten involved with me, I’m a fucking virus. He’s never going to stop, if he finds out about this, about us, it will be David all over again.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. All the pieces click in to place and all he wants to do is grab Billy and run, away from his father, keep him somewhere safe.

“I can’t have that happen to you, Steve, I _can’t._ ”

Billy’s hands are shaking. He’s got his eyes on the ground, jaw strained. Steve’s chest tugs at the sight of him. This guy, everything he’s been through, the loss, the hurt, the sadness. Even despite all of that, he was with Steve risking it all.

He looks at this broken boy, feeling like he finally understands him. Billy has to be in control. He overpowers everyone and everything around him. He had come to town with the sole mission of dethroning Steve, taking control of the school, of the town, needing to be the one on top. He needs that power, he needs that security. He needs it because it is everything his father takes away from him. His father is his monster. He hates the way he makes him feel. He hates the power his father has on him and his life.

Billy Hargrove is a raging firestorm. He came tearing in to Hawkins, burning everything in his path, terrified of letting anyone get too close. He is a fire that ignited Steve’s sky and burned real and bright and alive.

Steve _knows_ he loves him. He’s felt it. He’s seen it in those eyes when they fuck. He’s felt it in the way he holds him, the way he kisses him. He’s watched those lips curl in to a smile, his face soften, he’s watched Billy break his own rules over and over again for Steve. Even now, he is ready to break his own heart, to make Steve hate him if it means he is safe.

Steve surges forward, watches Billy flinch, expecting a blow. It tightens his chest and he reaches out, tugs him close and kisses him firmly.

Billy seems frozen in place but Steve doesn’t let it deter him. He sips at Billy’s lips until they move, kissing him back. Arms come around him, pulling him close and Steve whimpers against his mouth. His cheeks are wet, he’s not sure if they are his tears or Billy’s.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying between kisses, clinging to Billy like he’s the very air in his lungs, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Billy’s hands are warm, his embrace is comforting, secure, familiar. It makes Steve realize just how much he’s missed the guy. He smells of cigarettes and his cheap cologne, tastes like smoke and cherries.

“The fuck are you apologizing for, Harrington?”

His voice is low, scratchy.

“I shouldn’t have pressured you like that. I was an asshole to you and I’m sorry.”

Steve’s not good with words. He’s not good at telling people how he feels. He’s spent his whole life hiding that shit away, pretending he’s okay, that nothing bothers him. He doesn’t even know where to begin in telling Billy how much he’s sorry, how his chest aches with what the guy has been through. Billy’s not good with words either. He’s always shown how he feels, with his fists and his kisses. Steve’s learned to read him, learned to interpretate what he’s trying to say through his death glares and hard hits. He’s learned that when Billy’s hits are the hardest, its because he’s feeling his weakest.

“I’m not leaving,” he breathes out against Billy’s mouth, “I’ve never felt more alive in my life than in these past few months. I don’t want that to go away, I don’t want to go back to the way I was. I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore.”

He can see the argument in his face. He can see him fighting with his mind, wanting to end this and keep Steve safe but also wanting to stay with him. They could do it. It could work. They could keep going as they were, just sneaking around. They were graduating in the summer, Steve’s parents were already away on another trip. They just had to wait it out until graduation, behind closed doors, in Steve’ big, empty house. After then, they could leave, run away together, get as far away from Billy’s dad as they could. It would work.

“We’ll be careful, we can do it. Just, please, don’t go.”

“Steve -”

“- _please_.”

He kisses him hard, hand cupping the back of his head and Steve stumbles a little, but Billy holds him close. He kisses him like he’s desperate.

“I can’t lose you, Steve – I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

Steve feels dizzy from his kisses. He’s pent up, full of so many emotions, feeling so much for this boy. He knows this is real. He knows it better than he’s known anything in his life. He’s never felt this way for anyone. Not Nancy, not any of the other girls in school. This is happiness, this is belonging, this is _love_. He’s not letting this go. He’s not afraid of what happens. He’s fought goddamn Demogorgon’s for fuck’s sake. He’s strong, stronger than Billy knows. He won’t break.

“You won’t, I promise.”

Billy looks at him, eyes shining with tears, face full or worry and pain. He looks so young, so not like Billy. Those eyes regard him for a long time before he nods. His shoulders slump and he leans forward in to Steve’s embrace, nuzzling his face in to his neck, breathing him deep. Steve brings his arms around him, holding him strong and secure, heart thundering in his ears.

 “Come back to mine.”

He watches the snowflakes fall round them, landing on Billy’s curls, seeping in to his skin. He feels no chill in his embrace. The Cali boy’s fingers rub slow circles in to his skin, his body molded against his, holding him like he’s never going to let him go. Steve strokes his curls, feeling the fragility of this moment. Billy blows out a sigh against his skin and nods, pressing a kiss there before pulling away to look at him again.

“Okay.”

 

 

V

 

 

 

Billy lets Steve undress him, shivering as item after item is removed, skin breaking out in goose bumps wherever Steve touches. He’s quiet, Steve’s not really sure what to do with that. Usually, Billy takes control, making little quips here and there, shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he fucks in to Steve, making him fall apart.

Tonight, its different. Tonight, Billy’s an open book, compliant. Steve’s in control and he needs it, needs to show Billy how he feels. He needs to love Billy, to mend him, to take all the little parts that make him up and hold them together. He knows how precious this moment is. Billy’s never slipped, never gave Steve an inch. Now, he’s so vulnerable, completely open to Steve and the brunette is terrified and honored by his trust in him. He knows he’s seeing a part of Billy that no one has ever seen.

He’s gentle with him, kisses him firmly, holds him close. Billy kisses him back like he’s thirsty for it. He lies back in Steve’s big bed, all golden skin against white sheets and it never fails to take Steve’s breath away. Steve’s hands drag down his chest, rolling over the slopes of his muscles, feeling his soft, soft skin. Those blue eyes are watching his every move and he kneels above him. Steve follows his hand with his mouth, kissing the places he’s memorized on the boy, delighting in every tremble, every sigh, every moan. He wants to make Billy feel good, wants to make him feel everything he’s made Steve feel.

He tongues at the ‘V’ of his hips, watching the skin jump beneath his ministrations. Steve wants to kiss every inch of him, taste the salt and the sweet, claim every last morsel of skin. He licks up the length of him where it rests hot and heavy on his stomach, curling up, pearled at the tip. He licks the flushed head and a moan rumbles deep in Billy’s chest. Steve envelops him, sighs at the heavy weight of him on his tongue, the taste of him, the smell. Billy writhes on the bed sheets, hands scrabbling for purchase until Steve laces them together with his own, pressing them down in to the mattress as he sucks Billy deeper, hollowing his cheeks and moving his tongue against the underside of his cock.

Billy’s moaning out is name, breathless and soft. Steve glances up at him and meets his eyes, shivering under the intense gaze. Billy’s hands tighten in his, chest heaving. Steve feels dizzy, bucks down in to the mattress to relieve himself. Its heady, the way Billy’s looking at him while he’s wrapped around his cock, Steve thinks he could come just for this.

He pulls off, reminding himself of his mission, determined to see it through. He surges up Billy’s body and the blond raises his head to meet him, kissing him fiercely, all tongue and teeth. He pulls Steve against his body, moaning against his lips at the feeling of his skin on his. His hands run down his back, locking around his waist, hips canting up to rub their hard cocks together. Steve breaks the kiss with a moan, head thrown back and Billy leans up, mouth kissing and sucking, teeth biting up and down the colum of his throat. Steve whimpers, hips grinding with Billy’s erratically, lost in the pleasure, the heat. Billy’s mouth licks at his nipple, sucks on it, tongues the hardened peak and his cock jumps at the contact.

“ _Steve -”_

Steve ducks his head and kisses him firmly, tongues sliding together, hot breath fanning against his lips. He pushes at Billy’s hips, prompting him to roll over. Billy stills, looking at him. Steve holds his gaze. After a moment, Billy moves, slowly rolling over, allowing Steve to press him down in to the mattress.

Steve’s nerves are tingling, anxiety bubbling in his chest. He wants to do this well, wants to take care of Billy. He looks down at him, lying compliant, head to the side, curls fanned out around him. He looks like an angel, too fucking beautiful for this world. Steve marvels at him, hands roaming over his skin, tilting his head to catch his eye, making sure he’s alright.

Billy nods, curls his hands up to bury in the pillow he rests his head on. He presses his cheek in to its plush weight and waits.

Steve’s trembling, almost overwhelmed with how much feeling is in his chest. He feels like he could burst. He wants to scream at Billy how much he loves him, how he knows what this means, what Billy is doing for him. He ducks his head and kisses his way down his back, feeling the muscles shift. Billy shudders against his mouth, hips bucking in to the mattress, jerking here and there when Steve roams over sensitive parts. He pressed down on to him, hips flush with his as, his cock presses between his cheeks.

Billy moans, bucking back against him and Steve presses back in to him, grinding himself against his cheeks. He’s wet and leaking at the tip, wetting his movements. Billy’s moaning and canting back against him, head tilting to catch Steve’s mouth with his own, tongue tangling with his, moaning and moaning.

Steve forces himself to move, pulling his hips back and smiling at Billy’s answering whine. He could come just from that, easily, but he’s nowhere near done yet.

He shuffles farther down the bed, presses his hands against the swell of Billy’s arse, kneading at the flesh. He kisses his way up his thighs, gently prompting Billy to widen his legs. He complies easily, bending his knees, rising his legs until his hips are off the bed. His hole is revealed to Steve and his mouth waters. He watches the blonde’s swollen cock bob between his legs, handing heavy. He wants to duck down and tongue at the leaking tip, suck him like this, have Billy’s hips thrust down to meet him, slide his cock deep down his throat, fuck his face. Another time, he promises himself.

He caresses Billy’s skin gently and leans in, licking a wet stripe from Billy’s balls to his entrance. Billy moans, spreading his legs wider, pushing back. Steve licks at him again and again, face buried between his cheeks. He tongues at his entrance, feeling the puckered flesh tremble beneath his ministrations. He presses in gently, feeling the tight ring of muscle slowly give way and he presses in deeper. His ring hugs his tongue, tight as he presses deeper and deeper inside and Steve thinks how its going to feel wrapped around his cock and he lets out a low groan.

Billy’s a writhing mess, bucking back against his tongue, fisting the pillow, moaning and keening. Steve reaches around and pumps his cock, drunk on the noises Billy is making. While he is distracted, Steve reaches over to the small bottle of lube in his jeans. He slicks a hand and reaches around to tease at Billy’s hole. The blond shudders at the cold of the lube and the old familiar feeling.

Steve is gentle with him, he’s always gentle with this boy. He teases around the flesh, dips in and out, just touching new waters. When Billy whines and rises his hips back, he pushes deeper, sinking first one finger, then two, then three. He presses in and out, slowly, until Billy is writhing, moaning and bucking back, fucking himself on Steve’s fingers. He’s needy and horny and so fucking hot like this, Steve thinks he might not last the whole way through.

“S-Steve – get in me, already -”

He chuckles at Billy’s voice, so wrecked and whiny. He surges up, slicks himself with lube and presses in against Billy’s hole. The blonde sighs, pressing back, back arching, muscles flexing. Steve is mesmerized by him, watching him shudder and moan as Steve breaches him and presses in.

“Fuck,” he breathes, spine arched and head thrown back as he feels Steve fill him slowly, slowly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Steve is shuddering as he pushes in, taking his time, breathing hot and heavy. the impossibly tight heat of Billy enveloping him.

“God, Billy, you feel so fucking good.”

“Come on, Steve, please, _please_.”

Steve falls forward, filling Billy to the brim, hips flush with his ass. He covers his body with this own, tilts his head to kiss him, groaning against his lips as he pulls out of Billy’s tight heat.

Steve pushes back in again, breathing in to Billy’s mouth, moaning at the feeling. Its better than anything he could have imagined. Billy is amazing, panting and sighing in to Steve’s mouth. He leans back, planting his knees on the mattress and grips the boy’s hips, fucking in to him faster, harder, deeper. Billy moans in to the mattress, biting at the pillow, ass flexing as he meets Steve’s thrusts, like he’s desperate for it. Steve watches him circle his hips, his body wrapped so tightly around Steve he’s dizzy with it.

Steve isn’t going to last long, it’s all too much, too hot, to real. Billy’s hand surges around to grip his, his head angled so their eyes meet, his channel clenches around Steve like he won’t let go. Steve stills, pulls himself out of Billy slowly and the blonde whines, looking at him worriedly, like he’s done something wrong. Steve shakes his head, breathing hard, head consumed by this boy and how he makes him feel. He’s got tunnel vision, nothing exists in his world but Billy. He gently turns him over, biting his teeth at the sight of him now, laid out on his back. His curls fan around him, face flushed eyes blown wide. His chest heaves, necklace sliding over sweat sheened skin. He’s so fucking beautiful Steve can’t believe it, runs his hands down his chest, feeling him tremble beneath his touch.

“I want to see your face,” Steve explains, voice tight, watching Billy nod frantically, spread his legs, pull them up to his chest as Steve takes himself in hand again. He tries not to tremble when he presses back in to Billy, tight and wet and warm. He’s tighter like this, somehow. He pushes in, watches in fascination as Billy’s cheeks flush, his eyes widen, his mouth falling open to gasp.

Steve seats himself deep hi inside, leans over, hands braced on either side of Billy’s chest. He thrust in deep, fast, watches Billy moan, circles his hips to meet him. He does it again and again, fucking inn to the boy, hair falling in to his face. Billy’s spine arches off the bed, head thrown back, hands shuffling about until Steve laces them with his own, he falls forward, Billy’s legs locking around his waist automatically. The blond ducks his head to look at Steve, keeps looking at him, blue eyes swallowed by his pupils, intense stare that goes right to Steve‘s dick. He’s moving his hips erratically at this point, desperate, frantic, breathing in to Billy’s space. He’s vaguely aware of the bang of the headboard against the wall but he doesn’t care.

 “B-Billy – I’m going to come, so good, I’m going to come – Billy”.

Billy nods frantically, hands gripping on to Steve’s like his life depends on it.  

“C-come inside me, Steve. Let me feel it, baby - fill me up, please, come on, _come on.”_

Steve’s head swoons at those words, the scratch of his voice, the prospect of what he’s asking. Then Steve is coming, groaning and moaning loud and wanton as his hip stutter into billy’s. releasing deep inside him, listening to Billy’s soft whimpers as he does. Billy gasps at the feeling, throwing his head back and he comes completely untouched, grinding down on Steve’s cock, moaning and painting his won chest pearly white. Steve is mesmerized by him, he would come again if he was able to. He trembles when he feels Billy’s channel tighten around him, sucking him in greedily, milking every drop from him.

His arms give out and he falls forward, plastering his body to Billy’s panting and shivering against his chest. Billy’s breathing hard, hands move jerkily to hold him, jelly limbed and exhausted. They lie like that, regaining their breaths. Steve feels like he was close to blacking out. He’s softening inside Billy, he feels the boy’s release on his skin but he can’t bring himself to care. He lies there, blissed out in his afterglow, breathing in the smell of Billy.

The blond brings a hand to his hair and threads his fingers in. Steve tilts his head to look up at him and his heart skips a beat at the sight of him. He’s looking down at Steve like he hung the moon in the sky. His eyes are soft, his face gentle, he looks years younger. His fingers caress Steve’s head tenderly.

“That was amazing,” his voice is gentle, almost a whimper. Steve nods in response, forces himself up.

He gently pulls out of Billy, the blond whimpering a little as he does. He grabs his shirt from the floor, wiping at Billy’s chest, cleaning him up gently. He just lies there as he does, eyes watching Steve’s movements. He goes to clean Billy’s entrance but the blond stops him with a hand on his wrist, cheeks flushed, “don’t – I like it, feeling you in me.”

If Steve had the stamina, he would be hard again and ready to fuck him all over but instead he just wipes at his own chest, throws the dirty shirt over his shoulder carelessly and returns to Billy’s embrace. He kisses him, gentle, lazily. Billy holds him close, skin on skin, smiling lips, soft eyes. Steve thinks if there is ever a moment that made him realise he loves him, its this, its now.

He watches billy’s eyes droop. He’s never stayed the night, always had to go back before Neil catches him. A part of Steve’s brain wonders if he should ask him to stay, ask if he will just once be there when he wakes up. Exhaustion washes over his body. He shuffles closer to Billy’s heat, listens to his breaths even out and slow. He nuzzles in to him, breathes him in, feeling warm, content. Sleep finds him easy and he dreams of ocean blue eyes.

 

 

V

 

 

 

When he wakes again, its light outside. Hawkins is cold in the winter, the light white and heavy as it seeps though the curtains of Steve’s bedroom. He shivers and looks to his night stand, the clock there reading 7:37. He groans, rolls over, burying himself beneath the covers, seeking the heat he finds there, determined to get another few hours of sleep in.

His hands find the source of the heat, a warm, naked body lying beside his own. His eyes open, squinting in surprise and he sees a mop of blond curls. He sits up, surprised. Billy’s still here. Steve grins.

He lies with his back to Steve, facing towards the window. Steve lets his eyes wander over the shape of him, the curve of his spine, the slight swell of his hips before they disappear beneath the comforter. He looks small in Steve’s bed, shoulders moving steadily with his small breaths. Steve had thought Billy would be a loud sleeper, probably a snorer. But he’s quiet, so quiet, Steve wouldn’t even know he was there if he hadn’t been looking. He breathes slow and small, lying still. Steve wants to see his face, watch him relaxed in sleep. He goes to gently roll him over but stops when something catches his eye.

In the white light of the morning, Billy’s skin is illuminated and Steve can just make out the thin line of white on his shoulder. It’s a scar, he realizes, watches how it goes from the top of Billy’s shoulder blade, along in a straight line to just bellow it. He shuffles closer, rests his head on the pillow and lets his eyes roam over the flesh.

He’s seen Billy shirtless countless times, in basketball practice, when they fuck. But never this close or in such light. There are long, thin lines, hardly noticeable unless you’re looking for them littering his skin. He notices a few printed deeper, thicker lines curved and jagged. He realizes they are the marks of a buckle and his stomach drops. He’s looking at the marks of a belt. Swung across the skin buckle first. Some are faded and Steve wonders how old they are, doesn’t really _want_ to know. He hates the thought of Billy, young and being subjected to this.

He tentatively reaches out, ghosts his fingers across the skin, tracing along the lines of them. His throat contracts, his eyes sting, his blood boils. He watches Billy tremble under the touch, shaking and he’s not sure if he’s asleep anymore. Steve keeps going, keeps his breathing even and slow, his touch light.

He traces across each white scar. Tears prick behind his eyes and he bites his cheek. He moves slowly, pressing his lips so softly against the skin. He feels Billy jump a little, his shoulders tense but he doesn’t let it deter him. He kisses down each line, feather light kisses that are more for Steve than for Billy. He just needs to do this. He needs to cover them up in kisses, needs to replace the hate with something softer, sweeter.

When he’s done, he presses his chest to Billy’s back and loops an arm around his waist, hand splayed across his chest, fingers brushing through the light smattering of hair there, against the chain of his necklace. He starts to doze off. It’s not until he’s almost completely asleep that Billy’s shoulders release their tension, sagging back against Steve. His breathing evens out in a low shudder and Steve wonders if he is crying.

A hand comes up and laces their fingers together and he’s still and Steve drifts off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, what with Christmas and boxing day i had no moment to myself to get this finished!  
> I've got the last two chapters more or less written out i just need to edit them and tweak them here and there and they will be up as soon as i have done that.Thank you again to everyone following this story, i means a lot. Thank you for the comments and kudos! they keep me going and make me smile every time. I really love how people are really getting in to the story, its makes me happy!  
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> V


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll do it.”  
> He watches that pretty face frown, that little wrinkle appears between his brows as he does. He pouts a little when he’s confused, Billy finds it endlessly endearing.  
> “You’ll do what?”  
> “All of it. I’ll wine and dine you. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll lie on a fucking blanket watching the stars with you and bring you flowers.”  
> He shifts, releases his hands and sits back, ass resting against Steve’s lower belly, feeling the brush of hair on tender skin.  
> “I’ll be your boyfriend. If you want that.”

_The sun was obscured by heavy, white clouds. The air was thick with humidity, thunder rolling in the distance. It seemed to Billy, like California was saying goodbye to him. His heart was heavy, like the clouds in the sky. His face blank like the sun, his chest rumbling in emotion like the thunder. He felt like a prisoner, walking back and forth from the house to the car, placing in each box, bag, suitcase._

_He had been released from the hospital three days after he woke up. It had been lonely. Neil had barred any of his friends from visiting him. Max didn’t come, he had been feral enough to her to keep her at bay. Susan came once, accompanying Neil. That had been the day they discharged him. His father and his wife had come in to the room, Susan avoiding his eye as she stood looking out the window. Neil had pulled up a chair beside his bed and fixed him with a look._

_“I told you, plenty of times, California roads are busy, you should take care when crossing.”_

_Billy stared at him, that face blank, eyes boring in to his._

_“I hope you have learned your lesson, we don’t need you getting in to anymore accidents.”_

_Realization_ _had washed over Billy as cold as ice water. Neil must have told the hospital it was a car accident that got him in this state. He doubted anyone would care enough to question it. He wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t argue at all. Neil sat there, threatening him with his double meaning. If you disobey me, more accidents will happen. He might not have killed David this time around, but he could, if Billy dared to disobey him._

_“Have you learned your lesson, William?”_

_Billy had grit his teeth, anger surging through his entire being, hands shaking as he fists them against his bed sheets. He maintained his father’s gaze, watching the swirl of disgust and hatred there._

_“Yes.”_

_“Yes, what?”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_“That’s better.”_

_They had discharged him that day. Neil had drove them straight to the house where Billy had been instructed to pack up all his belongings. They were moving state the next day. Billy had felt his entire world grind to a halt. The pain in his chest more than just his healing ribs. Neil was taking everything from him. He ensured that Billy was powerless enough to be at his mercy, to do as he pleased._

_Billy had complied. What more could he do? He could barely walk, never mind run. Neil held the keys to his car, only to be given to him when they were to drive to their new home. Billy was to ride with Max beside him, following behind Neil. If Neil lost sight of him once, he promised there would not be a single place in the entire country he would not find him. He was to help all day long, packing boxes, filling both cars with them, if he disappeared once, Neil would find him._

_He wanted to see David, he wanted to try to explain everything. He didn’t even know how he was, if he was awake yet, if he was worse, better. He couldn’t even find a moment to call, Neil had ripped up the paper that held his brother’s number, he would have to find the phone book but Neil had got rid of that too._

_All he could do was silently help fill the car, help Susan with her heavy bags, make sure Max had enough room for all her belongings. When they were done, he stood by his car, staring up the drive at his house. This was the house he had been in his whole life. He had grown up here. His mother had taught him to ride his bike up and down that driveway. He had playing under the apple tree, learned to surf at the beach just a ten minute walk away. He had said a tearful goodbye to his mother at that front door, Neil’s hand griping his arm painfully as she cried and waved goodbye to him._

_Billy’s chest ached, his face and ribs thrummed in agony from all the movement. His throat was tight, tears stung at his eyes but he dared not let them fall, refused to let his father see. He stood, smoking a cigarette, watching as Susan brushed past, got in to the passenger seat of Neil’s car. He watched Max come shuffling out, avoiding his eye too as she climbed in to the Camaro, tucking headphones on and clicking her Walkman on. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since the hospital. It was better this way, he reminded himself._

_He watched Neil shut the door behind himself, lock it, slide the keys in the letter box and walk to his car. He had the air of someone smug, who had won. He looked at Billy and smiled, a small, sadistic smile that made Billy want to grab him and smash his face through the windscreen of his car._

_“Remember, you follow behind me. If I lose sight of you once, you’re dead.”_

_“Yes. Sir.”_

_Neil got in his car and Billy crushed his cigarette beneath his boot. He slid in to the Camaro carefully, knowing it will be a long drive, his ribs would ache the entire way._

_Max angled her body away and he bit his cheek as he turned the ignition, feeling the engine rumble beneath him. He took one more look at his childhood home before Neil was pulling away. He followed after, feeling empty, feeling numb._

_He would never let this happen again. His monster had won. David had paid nearly with his life, Max now hated him, his life was getting packed up and shifted in to the middle of nowhere. He would never let this happen again. He would never let anyone in. It caused nothing but trouble. It was all his fault._

 

 

V

 

 

 

 

Billy shifts as his mind slowly wakes. He’s warm and comfortable, feeling more relaxed than he has in years. The bed he lies in is soft, there’s a warm weight on his chest and he pulls it closer. His eyes slip open, blinking to clear away the last recesses of sleep and he squints in the cold, morning light. He’s in Steve’s room.

He hadn’t meant to stay the night. He always left to sneak back home to avoid Neil’s wrath. But last night, after everything. He couldn’t bring himself to leave. Steve had taken such good care of him, the sex had been fucking amazing, Steve made him feel so goddamn safe and loved it had choked him.

He had lay there, feeling his eyes slip shut, feeling Steve’s arms around him, knowing he should leave, should get up and hurry home before Neil found out he was gone. Instead, he had stayed, he’ll face Neil later, he’ll take the beating, blame some party, some girl. If it means staying a few more hours here, in this little heaven that was Steve’s world, he’ll do it.

His chest swells and he feels a little chocked up when he thinks about Steve. He loved David and he had loved Billy.  But it could never compare to how he felt about this boy.

He loves his hair, how long he takes to perfect it, how he runs his fingers through it when he’s angry or worried. He loves the way he smells like his girly hair spray and his cigarettes and expensive cologne. He loves that he gets Billy, he meets his fire with fire, taking everything he gives and matching his colors. He loves his secrets, the shadows in his eyes that has him scared of the dark and Billy wants to unravel him, learn it all. He loves how he kisses Billy, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of him, the taste. He loves that he can’t get enough of him, that he seems to need to touch him, even when they are out with people, Steve needs his leg pressed against Billy’s, his arm, his shoulder. He loves that Steve has gave him a sense of home, of family, he’s made him feel calm, safe. He loves that he loves him, every last fucked up part and it takes Billy’s breath away.

The words bubble in his chest, claw up his throat, clamber over his tongue and push at his lips. He doesn’t know how to tell Steve how he feels. Steve does it so easily, if not in words, he made Billy feel it last night. Billy tried to say it then too, letting Steve see him, really see him. He usually hates being that vulnerable, it was something that left him feeling bare and terrified, but with Steve he had felt so goddamn safe. It was amazing, every second of it Billy had been a mess and all he had wanted to do was burn Steve in to him, hold him in his soul until they were one being and never let him go.

He has pushed these feelings away for so long. He never thought he could feel anything again, not for anyone. That was the plan, at least, He would wait it out until graduation, pack up his car and leave his father in the dirt. He would drive until he had no road left and set up somewhere new, somewhere no one knew his face, his past, a completely fresh start in a place that was just his. But now, he can’t imagine any future that didn’t have Steve in it. And that is scary and new.

He looks at Steve, slumbering soundly against his chest. His hands hold Billy, his face relaxed and pretty in his sleep. Billy feels so much warmth in chest all because of this boy. He remembers the feeling of his soft touch against his scars, the press of his mouth, the way this guy loved all the fucked up parts that make him Billy. He’s goddamn lucky.

Steve shifts, eyes slipping open, big browns blinking blearily. His gaze finds Billy and he smiles, stretches the sleep from his body, sags against him, all pretty soft skin and sleep ruffled hair.

“You stayed.”

His voice is husky from sleep and it stirs something in Billy’s gut.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shoves his hand against his arm. Billy catches it, shoves against Steve and kicks up a play fight wrestling match. Steve laughs loudly as they fight, flailing limbs. Billy rolls them, pins Steve’s arms down above his head, straddles him and holds him still. Steve looks up at him, hair a mess, grinning, ‘pretty boy’ running on repeat through Billy’s head.

“I’ll do it.”

He watches that pretty face frown, that little wrinkle appears between his brows as he does. He pouts a little when he’s confused, Billy finds it endlessly endearing.

“You’ll do what?”

“All of it. I’ll wine and dine you. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll lie on a fucking blanket watching the stars with you and bring you flowers.”

He shifts, releases his hands and sits back, ass resting against Steve’s lower belly, feeling the brush of hair on tender skin.

“I’ll be your boyfriend. If you want that.”

Steve stares up at him, hands still pressed in to the mattress above his head. He studies Billy, trying to find the lie, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Billy lets him look.

“You don’t have to do that. I was being a dick -”

“- I want to.”

“You do? Really?”

Billy nods, “doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice to you all the time, though.”

Steve chuckles, bringing his arms down to catch Billy’s lacing their fingers together, resting them on his chest.

“You’ll be my boyfriend?”

Billy shifts, scared he’s going to say no.

“Don’t make me say it again, asshole.”

Steve’s grinning, all lit up like the fourth of July.

“Okay.”

He surges up, kisses Billy gently and the blond cups his head in his hands. He sighs against his mouth, Steve’s hands holding his waist.

He feels himself stir, cock filling out as the kiss deepens. He tilts Steve’s head, tongues at his lip, prompts him to widen his mouth. He delves in, tasting his tongue, moaning breathlessly as his hips shift, bushing his hardening member against Steve’s stomach. He can feel him harden too, twitching against the crease of his ass. Billy shifts, moves further down his body, not breaking the kiss. He feels Steve’s cock brush against the crease of his ass and moves his hips in small circles, rubbing at him.

Steve groans in to his mouth, nails digging into his hips and Billy tugs on his hair. He pushes Steve’s chest, breaking the kiss and watching him flop back down on the mattress. Billy runs his hand down his chest, fingertips trailing through the dark hairs dusting his navel. He trails lower and feels Steve’s cock twitch against the crease of his ass and smirks at him.

“How do you want it?” he asks, voice a low growl, watching Steve shiver, lick his lips. He blushes and Billy watches it run like ink in water across his cheeks, down his neck, fanning out across his chest. He dips his head and licks there, nibbling at his collarbone.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmurs out against the skin, nibbling his way across, dipping down to lick at a nipple.

Steve jerks, blows out a breath, hands coming up to run over Billy’s skin.

“I want to try something,” he says, threading fingers in to Billy’s curls and gives a light tug. Billy raises his head, smirking up at him, tongue flicking out again to tease at his nipple.

“What?”

Steve lets out a breath, eyes dark and watching Billy’s tongue snake around the peak, teeth scraping lightly.

“I want to suck you off,” he manages, hands tightening and loosening on Billy’s skin, in his hair, “I want you to suck me off too.”

Billy stills at that, eyebrows raised, surprised, “at the same time?”

Steve nods, cheeks a flame. Billy chuckles, surges up to kiss him firmly, “you’re a minx, princess.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Billy kisses him again then shuffles around so his body is angled towards Steve. He kisses his way down his chest, making sure to suck at a nipple as he goes. He tongues his way across Steve’s stomach, lying on his side, shuffling closer as he goes. He nuzzles at the flat expanse of his abdomen, just at the base of his cock, nosing around the curve of him. He’s big, about the same length as Billy but thicker. The dark hairs at the base meet the dusting on his navel and Billy kisses his way along. He sneaks out his tongue to lick at the tip and shudders when suddenly he feels a tongue taste at his own tip.

He ducks his head down and nearly comes right there and then when he sees Steve, lying half on his side, head tilted over and mouth widening, taking Billy’s cock in, sucking on his head. Billy bucks in to the feeling, breathing laboured, heat spiking through his veins at the sight. Steve sucks dick like he was made for it, looks so fucking good with his mouth stuffed full of Billy and Billy never wants to forget the sight.

Steve moans around him, taking him deeper, shuffling closer to do so and Billy shakes himself out of his trance. He turns back to Steve’s cock, hard and flushed at the tip and leaking on to his skin. He mouths at him, teasing, tonguing from tip to base and back again. He gasps out a moan against the hot, velvety flesh when Steve takes him deeper, feeling the press of his throat, the rub of his tongue. He bucks in to the feeling and surges forward, swallowing Steve down, suddenly needing to fill his mouth with his heavy weight. He moans around him, tasting his salty sweetness and the way he bucks in to his heat. Its too much, he already knows he’s not going to last long. The feeling of Steve’s mouth combined with having him in his mouth is just pure fucking heaven.

He feels Steve’s hands come to his hips, prompting him to move his thigh, pushing him up on to all fours, throwing his leg over his body until Billy is on hands and knees above him. He pulls off Steve, ducking his head down and groans loudly when he sees Steve lying there on his back, Billy’s cock hard and heavy, hanging between his legs, disappearing in and out of Steve’s eager mouth.

“Fuck, Steve – look at you.”

Steve moans around him, surging up to suck him harder, deeper, like he’s desperate for it.

Billy tears his gaze away, feeling himself rushing to the edge, so close to it. He takes Steve in his mouth again and the boy thrusts up, filling his mouth, sliding down his throat. Billy breathes slowly, concentrating on relaxing his throat, letting Steve move. He fucks his mouth in slow, long thrusts, sliding in and out of his throat. His jaw starts to ache and his eyes water but is he fuck going to stop. Its so good, so fucking good.

He bucks down in to Steve’s mouth, moaning and moaning around him as he feels the tight heat of his throat envelop him again and again. His hands cup his thighs, running up and down sensitive flesh. He feels his release building, coming closer. He knows Steve is close too, knows in the erratic twitching of his hips, he moans getting louder and needier, his mouth working Billy faster. Billy moans, thrusting, sucking, taking and giving until he comes, shuddering and pulling down Steve’s throat. Steve comes immediately, filling Billy’s mouth with his hot release and he drinks it down greedily, sucking every last drop out of him, hips stuttering down, thrusting wildly in to Steve’s mouth as he does the same.

He pulls out, release Steve with a gasp and rolls off, collapsing on to the mattress beside Steve and tries to catch his breath.

“Oh my god,” Steve’s breathing out, hands blindly reaching to tangle with Billy’s, “fuck me, that was so fucking good.”

Billy grins, breathing hard, spent cock lying against his hip, cheek resting on Steve’s leg, feeling the soft hairs there.

“Jesus, Harrington, you’re going to kill me.”

Steve laughs, loud and long, head back against the pillow. Billy laughs with him, forcing his limbs to move, crawling back up the bed to collapse against Steve’s body. He buries his face in to his neck, breathing him in, smelling of sex and Steve. Arms come around him, lazily stroking across his skin and Billy lies like dead weight in his embrace.

The crackle of a radio static jolts him out of his afterglow and he glares at the walkie sitting on Steve’s night stand,

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve grumbles, batting a hand at the walkie as it crackles again, a voice coming through the static. He grabs it, presses the button, other arm still wrapped around Billy as he brings it to his mouth.

“Fuck off, Dustin.”

“Uh, good morning to you too, Steve.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Jesus its nearly ten o’clock!”

Billy jerks a little at that, Steve looking at him worriedly as he sits up, looking to the clock on the nightstand.

“Slept in, I guess,” he says in to the walkie.

Neil is going to fucking kill him.

“We want to go to the arcade; can you drive us there?”

Billy gets up reluctantly, tugs on his jeans and Steve sits up, covers pooling around his waist, hair a mess, all pretty skin and soft looking. Billy just wants to climb back in and have him all over again.

“Yeah, dude, give me like half an hour.”

“Okay, thanks Steve! We’re at Will’s - oh, wait, Max wants to talk to you”

Billy still as that, jeans half buttoned as they both stare at the walkie.

“Steve? You there?” Max’s voice comes through the static and he stares dumbfounded at Steve’s face who looks equally confused.

“Yeah, I’m here, what’s up?”

“Is Billy with you?”

They both stare at each other.

“Um”

Billy looks at Steve, He knows he got them to help him come meet him last night. It was Max that had shoved his car keys in to his hand and demanded he drop her off at they Byer’s place then cornering him with Dustin to go meet Steve at the Quarry. She had honestly flown from his mind all last night. He felt fear grip him, wondering if Neil had somehow found out he shirked her off.

Billy buttons his jeans and comes forward, tugs the walkie out of Steve’s hand and holds it to his own mouth.

“I’m here.”

 “We got Mrs Byers to call Neil last night about me staying the night here. He thinks you dropped me off and will come get me after so don’t go home yet.”

 “You covered for me?”

The line is quiet for a beat, Billy just stares at Steve, “of course I did.”

He feels his chest tighten. They had gotten better with each other recently. After everything that had happened in Cali, Steve learning about it all and telling him how Max felt. He had started going easier on her. They were slowly but surely going back to how they were, at least able to be in the same room together. He was genuinely surprised that she would cover for him after everything.

“Thanks, Max.”

“Meet us at the arcade with Steve and we can go home together, that way he won’t know.”

The link crackles and goes quiet after that, Billy wordlessly hands it back to Steve who places it on the nightstand and shuffles closer on the bed, looking up at him worriedly.

“You okay?”

Billy nods,” just surprised.”

Steve sits still, looking at him like he’s waiting for an explosion. Billy shakes himself out for his reverie, smirks, ducks down to kiss the boy and watches his face light up again, smiling.

“Get dressed, pretty boy, looks like we’ve got a date.”

 

 

 

V

 

 

 

Billy really doesn’t know how Steve manages it.

There are kids _everywhere._

Their group is bad enough, the few times he’s hung out with the lot of them. Usually, as long as they are fed and have some game or film to watch they leave him alone. But here, in the arcade, surrounded by other kids, he might go mad.

He grunts, annoyed as two go running past, nearly knocking the two cokes he’s got out of his hands. He glares at them through his aviators, picking his way through the mass of bodies to the booth Steve managed to snag. The guy’s got some baskets of fries ordered and milk shakes, the kids running back from the game consoles every now and them to gorge themselves on it like some fast food pit stop.

“I’m seriously ready to punch someone, I don’t care how young they are,” Billy grumbles as he slides in next to Steve, sliding the bottle over to him. The brunette chuckles, taking a long drink.

“They’re not so bad, you’ll get used to it.”

“Wanna bet?”

Steve squeezes his thigh under the table and Billy relaxes a little, shifting so his leg is pressed against Steve’s, hooking his ankle in to his own. Steve smirks at him, taking another sip of his soda, eyes on the kids and they gather around the _Dig Dug_ machine. Max is playing and the guys are all gathered around her, encouraging her, edging her on.

She’s grinning, the console lighting up her face. He’s not seen her as happy as she is surrounded by those loud, obnoxious kids. It makes him smile. Steve nudges his knee against his thigh and smiles, ducking his chin in to his chest and slumping down in the booth.

Will appears, sliding in beside Billy and reaches for the fries, shoving a few in his mouth.

“You okay, kid?” Steve asks, peering at him with a smile, still slumped in his seat.

Will nods, taking a sip of his vanilla milkshake. Billy leans over and steals the cherry from the top of it, Steve swatting his hand against his arm in beratement. Will is smiling, cheeks a little flushed and takes a sip of the shake.

“Steve we’re going to El’s after this, you coming?”

Steve sits up as the hoard of kids return, shoving the fries towards them as they squash themselves in to the booth.

“Sure, got nothing else to do.”

“You’re coming too,” Max says to Billy, sliding in next to Will and stealing some fries from Billy’s basket. The blond tuts at her, mock swatting her hand away but lets her grab a handful.

“Yes, your majesty.”

He feels his chest swell at her demand, code for he’s one of the pack, allowed to hang with her friends. Steve nudges his knee against Billy’s thigh again and he’s smiling, trying to pry the milkshake off Dustin who is trying to blow bubbles in it through three straws.

“You’ll need to call Neil when we get there,” Max says to him around a mouthful of fries, “he’ll be fine as long as he hears you’re with me.”

Billy nods and drapes his arm over the back of the booth, nudging against the back of Will’s shoulders and Max’. He sees the small boy glance at his arm then lean back in to it slightly. He feels Steve lean close on his other side and ducks his head to listen to him.

“I think you’ve got an admirer.”

He smirks, stroking his foot up and down Steve’s under the table, “you jealous, princess? “

He keeps his voice low, its lost in the hubbub of the arcade but Steve chuckles, fingers playing with the label of his soda bottle. He leans back in, lips barely moving as he replies.

“I’ll need to stake my claim, leave more marks next time,” he glances at the small, red mark on Billy’s neck, just hidden under the collar of his jean jacket. Billy feels his stomach swoop and he clears his throat, shifts a little in is seat and bites his cheek.

Steve grins and downs the last of his soda, making sure to gulp loudly. Billy tries not to watch the bob of his Adam’s apple too closely.

Then the kids are all getting up, moving in a wave of loud voices. Its agreed that Steve will take Mike, Will and Dustin and Billy will take Max and Lucas. Billy eyes the boy, big brother instincts kicking in as he watches him fidget next to Max. He’s a good guy, Billy knows that. He looks at Max like she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and its cute. Doesn’t mean Billy’s not going to tease them about it.

They file out in to the parking lot. Winter days seem to blink past in Hawkins, they’ve only been there a few hours and its already starting to get dark. The ground is frosty and he tugs his jean jacket around him, adamantly refusing to button up his shirt, no matter how much Steve fusses at him about it. He bats Steve’s and away as it tries once more to at least button up his jacket a little and laughs when Steve full on pouts.

The kids pile in to the cars, Steve parked a few paces away from him. He lights a smoke as he watches Steve demand that Mike make sure Dustin is buckled in. He climbs in to his seat when he’s satisfied they are belted in and looks over to Billy.

“Just follow me there, Hop lives in the middle of nowhere.”

Billy nods and flicks away his cigarette.

He glances around the parking lot, there’s no one there, really, just a few cars here and there, a couple walking hand in hand down the street, a few others walking about not minding them at all. The boys in the back of the beamer are engrossed in a comic, bickering over who died on page three and how some other character is a clone or something. Max and Lucas are too wrapped up in their own little world to pay him any mind.

Billy smirks, striding over to Steve’s window, ducking down as if to discuss directions with him. He ducks his head in and kisses him quickly but firmly. He pulls away, smiling at Steve’s surprised expression and winks, watching him blush furiously.

“Love you, asshole,” he breathes out, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

He watches his face light up, looking at Billy like he’s just gave him a million bucks. Billy laughs, backs away, feeling light and really fucking happy.

He turns back to the Camaro but stops dead in his tracks when he sees the figure standing by the front door of the arcade.

Neil.

Billy’s frozen in place, things seem to go in slow motion from there. He watches his father stride towards him, eyes full of fury, hand curling in to a fist. He watches him swing it around, hears him curse at him before the fist is connecting with his jaw.

He didn’t plant his feet, he goes sprawling.

There’s shouts all around. He hears car doors open and slam, kids shouting his name. Pain thrums across his mouth, he tastes blood and he looks back up just in time to see another fist come raining down, connecting with his nose this time. That hurts like hell, a ringing pain blooming across his face, thundering right through his skull. Blood spurts out, rains down like the snow upon him.

His father raises his fist again, the other gripping the front of Billy’s jacket and he’s seething, looking angrier than Billy’s ever saw him. Some fucked up part of his brain wonders if this is what David saw that night.

Then his father releases him, Billy watches in horror as Steve appears, punching Neil straight in the jaw. Neil stumbles but doesn’t fall, recovers quickly. He looks at Steve like he can’t believe he would dare to touch him.

“How dare you, you fucking disgusting pervert,” Steve moves between Billy and Neil, feet firm on the ground Billy groans, trying to shout, trying to tell him to run, to get away, but his head is ringing, blood fills his mouth and his nose, making it hard to breathe. He thinks he’s bashed his head off the ground because its throbbing at the back and his vision is going a bit funny.

Neil surges forward, throws a punch at Steve who tries to doge it but Neil was military he knows the moves, he throws a counter punch and it connects with Steve’s face, making the guy stumble back, shouting out in pain.

Then Max is there, hands grabbing on to Neil’s arm, tears streaming down her face as she screams at him to stop. He looks at her, bars his teeth and shoves her off. She hits the ground hard, slipping in the snow and her face meets the ground. Her hair gets soaked in the snow, letting out a small cry of pain.

Billy fucking sees _red_.

He gets to his feet, gritting his teeth and pounces on Neil. He shoves him with all he’s got, roaring at him as his fists fly blind and wild, connecting with his face, his shoulder, his gut.

“You don’t fucking touch her!”

Neil shoves him, blocks a few attacks but not before Billy manages to burst his lip. He gets a hand around Billy’s throat and squeezes, screaming, spitting blood on his cheeks. Billy’s knees give out, there’s shouts all around and his back hits the floor. Neil follows him down, hands still around his throat, squeezing so hard Billy feels the blood pump in his face, feels his throat constrict feels like his head is about to explode.

He’s going to kill him. He’s finally going to do it.

Billy’s legs kick, his hands scrabble for purchase but Neil is too strong, leans down, hisses insults in his ear. His vision blurs and he can see blue and red, wonders if his eyes have started bleeding.

Then suddenly, he’s gone. His throat is released, air rushes in to his lungs and he chokes on it, coughing and spluttering. He rolls over, spitting blood out on to the sidewalk and wheezes. Hands come around him, rolling him over, he sees Steve getting held back by Mike, Dustin and Will. He sees Max looking down at him, face covered in blood and tears, Lucas helping her stand.

Steve is released, comes running to his side, Max too. They both help him sit up, Steve running his hands over his body, face full of worry.

Billy turns, sees Neil bent over the bonnet of a police car, Hopper behind him, cuffing his hands behind his back.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit!” he’s screaming. He’s drunk, on alcohol and rage.

Hopper’s lip curls in disgust and another officer helps hold him down, both struggling to cuff him.

Billy growls, surging up, ready to hit him again. Hands hold him back, small, childish ones, larger, stronger ones.

“Don’t you ever come back to my house you fucking faggot!”

Billy snaps, thrashing against the hands holding him back.

“Don’t worry, Pops! I’ve got Steve to stay with and guess what we do? We fuck!”’ he yells, thrusting his hips, delighting in his father’s answering scream of rage.

“We fuck all night long! He gives it to me and your faggot son takes it good and hard and I fucking love it!”

“Let me at him! Let me go!”

Hopper drags Neil away, pushes him in to the back of the cruiser and slams the door on his shouts. The car pulls away, blue and red lights fading away and Billy sags, falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body. Someone is clinging to him and he shifts his gaze, sees red hair. 

He grabs at her, tugs her close, holding her to him like his life depends on it.

Boots fill his vision and he looks up to see Hopper towering over them. Max pulls away, sniffing and Hop offers his hand to Billy who takes it, letting the older man tug him to his feet.

Hope gives him a once over, “now, the way I see it, this was self-defence.”

Billy meets his gaze, sees something in them that’s unfamiliar but welcome Hop nods, releases his hand and looks around at the lot of them.

“Clean yourselves up, El’s expecting you for dinner, I won’t be hearing any excuses.”

He nods to someone behind Billy and moves off shooing away the small crowd of kids at the arcade entrance. He climbs in to his truck and moves away.

Billy spits out a mouthful of blood and turns. The kids are all looking up at him in awe and fear. Steve comes forward, wraps him up in his arms. He’s covered in blood too, nose bleeding. Billy leans in to him.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Steve says, hands fussing over him, gently touching his neck.

“Dude,” they all look to Dustin, he’s looking up at Billy all wide eyed, “that was awesome!”

Billy stares at him then bursts out laughing, wincing at the answering sting in his eye.

“Let’s just go, please,” he says to Steve who nods.

“you can’t drive like this.”

Billy rolls his eyes at him, ignoring the twinge of pain in them, “trust me, pretty boy, I’ve had worse.”

Steve gives him a look but seems to trust him, threads fingers in to his curls and presses a kiss against his head. Billy makes his way to the Camaro, Max and Lucas following close behind. He’s not really sure how to process everything that’s just happened. He’s probably in shock, his hands are shaking enough for it.

He pushes it away, just wanting to get away from here, get inside, somewhere he doesn’t feel so exposed. He brings the Camaro roaring to life and follows Steve’s taillights out of the parking lot.

 

 

 

V

 

 

 

 

Hopper’s cabin is the smallest place Billy has ever been in. Its in the middle of the woods, he’s not even sure how Steve managed to find his way there, he was lost after five minutes of nothing but trees. Between that and El meeting them outside the place, not surprised at all by their beaten up state, like she knew this had happened, Billy’s head is thrummed with the mystery of the girl.

He brushes it aside as they all pile in, Mike, Lucas and Dustin enthusiastically re enacting the whole thing for her while she sits on the couch, smiling as Lucas dives to the floor, pretending to be Billy with Dustin bashing him with a cushion, evidently pretending to be Neil.

Steve locates the first aid box, a giant thing packed full of enough supplies to fix up an army. He tugs Billy and Max over to the table, pressing a pack of frozen peas to his eye. Billy winces at the contact, Steve running fingers through his curls as he dabs at his own nose with a tissue.

Mike tackles Dustin to the floor in a very dramatic enactment of Hopper arresting Neil and Steve goes over, shouting at them when he knocks over a lamp and smashes it, El laughing the whole time.

Billy turns to Max, watches her dig through the box for band aids and he sets his ice pack aside.  He drag his chair over to her’s, their legs pressed together and he gently pulls away the rag she holds against her eye. When she slipped after Neil pushed her, she had hit the side of her head off the ground, splitting her eyebrow, cutting up the corner of her brow. It was starting to bruise, all yellow and green. It had been bleeding profusely, dribbling down her head to soak her T-shirt.

He tugs out a pack of antiseptic wipes and opens them with his teeth.

“This is going to sting like a bitch,” he warns her before wiping at the cut. She jerks, wincing but doesn’t pull away.

He gently wipes at the dried blood, cleaning it all off and dabbing at the cut, making sure its clean. He takes another wipe and cleans his hands before fishing in the box again. He finds a packet of butterfly stitches and pulls it open.

“Okay, hold still,” he leans in and gently touches the deep cut at her brow. He pulls the skin closed, plastering it shut with a few of the butterflies. He works  carefully and slowly, leaning in to Max’s space but she stays still. He sits back, satisfied with his neat stitching and reaches for some gauze, cutting a small square.

“You’re good at this.”

He scoffs, cutting up some strips of bandage tape and presses the small square of gauze over the cut. He tapes it in place, careful to keep it out of her eye enough that it won’t annoy her.

“Had plenty of practice.”

She lets him finish up, sitting back to assess his work.

“Try not to move your eyebrows.”

She smiles, punching his arm affectionately.

“Thanks.”

He grunts in reply and fishes out more gauze, roughly cleaning up his own face. She tuts at him and takes it from his hand, pulling out some wipes and gently cleaning the blood from his face, like he had done her.

“So, you’re gay.”

She avoids his eyes, concentrating on what she’s doing, hands gentle as she cleans the blood and dirt off him.

“Yup.”

She nods, setting aside the blood soaked wipe and grabbing another one.

“And you’re with Steve?”

“Yup.”

She nods again, her lips curling a little at the corners. She finishes up, handing him back his frozen peas and pushes them up to his face, prompting him to hold them there. He sits back, she doesn’t make a move to leave. She stares at his jeans, he knows she’s thinking of what to say.

“Back in Cali, it wasn’t some girl I was sneaking out to see.”

She meets his gaze, eyes wide.

“It was my boyfriend. I wouldn’t have left you like that if it hadn’t been important.”

She blinks but stays quiet.

“Neil told me to say goodbye to him, then went and put him in the hospital to make sure I couldn’t see him again. He was black and gay, not a great combo, you know how Neil is – racist, homophobic asshole.”

He watches her eyes wide, the clogs turning in her mind. He sees her fit all the pieces in to place, realization washing over her. Her eyes fill with tears and her chin trembles.

She glances over to Lucas where he’s slumped on the couch, eye shifting over to them every so often, obviously wanting to come see how she is, a bit scared to approach Billy.

“If you want to be with him, Max, then do it. Don’t let anyone tell you who to love.”

She looks at Billy like he’s someone else. He probably is to her, she’s never really known anything other than his rage. It fills him with guilt. He takes her hand in his, running his thumbs over her skin, feeling how small she is compered to him.

“It wasn’t your fault. I never blamed you. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I only ever wanted to protect you but I let what he was doing to me get the best of me. I’ve just been so fucking angry for so long. At Neil. At the world. At myself for being so goddamn stupid and messed up.”

Max’s fingers squeeze his and he clings to her touch desperately, the lump in his throat choking him, cutting off his words. His tears burn hot down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

She surges forward, wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in in his shoulder. He holds her, blinking away the tears, feeling her body shudder as she cries. When she pulls away, she scrubs a hand over her cheeks, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her hoodie. She smiles at him.

“Don’t go getting soft on me, William.”

He laughs, wiping at his own cheeks, wincing as he brushes over the bruises blooming there, “right back at you, Maxine.”

She goes to join Lucas on he couch and Steve appears, two tissues stuffed up his nostrils to stem the bleeding. He smiles down at Billy, hand caressing his curls and Billy blows out a sigh, feeling free, feeling lighter than he has in years.

“Proud of you,” he says, thumb caressing Billy’s cheek, “can’t believe you actually came out.”

Billy scoffs, getting to his feet, “yeah, well, kinds forced you out too, guess we’re both fucked.”

Steve chuckles, presses a kiss to his lips, tasting of blood but its sweet.

Billy catches his waist, presses their foreheads together and sighs, closing his eyes. For a while, he just wants to block out the world, not sure what it’s going to throw at him next. For now, he just wants it to be him and Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Two chapters in one night!  
> I will hopefully have this finished tonight, if not by tomorrow. Got the last chapter planned out, just need to get writing!  
> Thank you again everyone for the comments and Kudos! Keep them coming I'm loving reading what you guys think! 
> 
> V


	10. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy bangs his hands on the steering wheel, sings along loudly to his music, air blowing his shirt open. He had his aviators perched on his nose and peers over them to Steve very now and then as he sings along to the lyrics. It’s Steve’s turn to play the songs, Billy only complaining occasionally.  
> We could be heroes, just for one day.  
> “More of your sappy bullshit, Harington?”  
> Steve’s never seen him so carefree, so alive, so happy.

The wind comes whipping in through the open windows, rustling through Steve’s hair, sending Billy’s curls flying all around his head. He’s got the steering wheel in one hand, his elbow resting on the top of the door, out the open window. His legs are spread where he sits, pressing down on the gas every now and then. The engine rumbles and growls beneath them, the Camaro seeming to enjoy being on the open road as much as them.

Billy bangs his hands on the steering wheel, sings along loudly to the music, air blowing his shirt open. He has his aviators perched on his nose and peers over them to Steve every now and then as he sings along to the lyrics. It’s Steve’s turn to play the songs, Billy only complaining occasionally.

_‘We could be heroes, just for one day.’_

“More of your sappy bullshit, Harrington?”

Steve’s never seen him so carefree, so alive, so _happy._

Billy turned eighteen in the end of July, two months after graduation. Steve had watched the guy walk across the stage, robes swishing around as he swaggered across, flashing his pearly whites. Turns out, Billy actually did pretty well in school, getting near enough straight A’s in all his subjects. He confided in Steve that low grades were just another reason Neil had to beat the shit out of him so he studied hard to get them up and found he actually enjoyed it. He wound up being a huge book worm, something Steve found endlessly fascinating about him. He liked to watch him read, when he started doing it around Steve. They would lounge in the sun at the Quarry, Billy resting his head in Steve’s lap as the brunette sat up, watching the kids splash about in the water through his sunglasses. The pages would flick past fast, Billy’s eyes darting across each page, face serene, completely zoned out in to whatever world he was reading about.

After the night Neil had attacked him, Hopper had fought to get the guy put away as long as possible. Turns out his friends in the force were all over and he managed to get away with just a meagre one month’s sentence. Susan had screamed Billy out of the house and Hopper had opened his door to him. He lived officially in the cabin with El but spent most of his time with Steve in his big, empty house.  He got himself a job at the local mechanic’s, working late nights and long weekends. He put way all the money he earned, Hop adamantly refusing to take a penny from him. Steve liked to visit him at work, his BMW suddenly sporting a whole array of problems that warranted his hanging around, watching Billy covered in motor oil, muscles bulging as he worked on the cars, jumpsuit tied around his waist, white wife-beater making his skin look all the more golden.

Despite it all, Billy still grinned and laughed with Steve, still teased the kids and stuck his tongue out at Max. He still drove them around, even though Steve watched his eyes dart around every corner, every dark shadow for fear Neil would appear again. No matter what shit he had going on, he was still same old Billy. The Billy Steve loved more than he could imagine. His chest had swelled in pride all the while. When Steve had followed him across, Billy had been waiting at the other end with a grin and his arms wide.

They had partied with the rest of the high school kids, not really paying much attention to them. It was that night Billy had looped his arm across Steve’s shoulders as they drunkenly stumbled up to the Quarry for their own private celebration. The boy had whooped, bounding around the place then grabbed Steve’s jacket, kissed him messily and told him he wanted to run away with him.

“You and me, the open road, we can go anywhere. Fuck it. Let’s go.”

When it came to Billy’s birthday, Mrs Byers had thrown a small party for him. Billy had shifted from foot to foot, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, ears red as he thanked everyone. Steve sat next to him while they sang happy birthday to him and Billy ducked his head in embarrassment, blowing out the candles then smearing icing across Steve’s cheek. The kids had all chipped in to get him a few of his favourite bands on cassettes, Hopper and Joyce had given him a collection of classic books, all hand bound fancy looking that had Billy staring at them in awe, turning them over in his hands in wonder. Nancy and Johnathan had given him a photograph, it was of him and Steve. It was taken on the fourth of July, neither of the boys had any clue Johnathan was taking it. They were sitting on the hood of Billy’s car, sharing a cigarette while the kids ran about with sprinklers. Billy was mid laugh, head thrown back, curls splayed across the roof of the car. He’s got his arms wrapped around his waist shaking as he laughs loud and long. His eyes are closed and crinkle at the corners, his mouth open wide. Steve’s sat next to him, looking down at him, face scrunched up in laughter and they both look so goddamn happy and natural, it warms Steve’s heart every time he looks at it. Max had got Billy a skateboard, El had decorated it with her rainbow stars.

“So you can teach Steve to skate before he tries surfing.”

Billy had laughed, ruffling Max’s hair and watching her grumble and try to fix it, but she had been smiling all the while.

After they had eaten, Steve had joined him on the back porch, kissing his smile and sharing a smoke with his arms around him. The next week they had packed up the Camaro, said goodbyes to all their friends and hit the road. Steve had watched Max cling to Billy, smiling up at him and demanding they call as soon as they were settled so she could come and visit once she learned to drive.

It had been tough saying goodbye, but they all knew it wasn’t going to be forever.

Now, on the open road, Billy by his side, a packed car and endless possibilities before them, Steve feels like he’s finally living. He grins with Billy, sings with him to the music. When it darkens, he finds his eyes dropping and worries Billy is sleepy too. He squeezes Billy’s thigh where his hand rests there and sees the pink of his eyes when he peers over the console at him.

“Stop at the next motel for the night, you can’t drive forever.”

Billy chuckles but nods, scrubs a hand over his face and laces their fingers together. They pull in to a tiny place just off the freeway. Its near enough empty but Billy still waits outside while Steve goes in to buy the room. The girl at the counter barely glances at him as she hands over the keys.

The room is small and decorated in a way that reminds him of his grandmother’s house. Steve goes for a shower and Billy draws the curtains, locks the door and collapses on to the bed.

When Steve comes back out, towel wrapped around his waist, hair still a bit damp, he finds Billy stretched out on the mattress. He’s lying on his stomach, arms buried beneath the pillow, face nuzzled in to its soft plush. The covers pool around his waist and Steve’s eyes follow the curve of his spine, the tan of his skin against the sheets. He knows Steve’s looking, he likes when Steve looks at him. The narcissistic asshole that he is loves to be looked at and admired, especially when its Steve. Steve is always more than happy to indulge him, hungry eyes taking him in, following him around every room.

He drops the towel, climbs on to the bed and trails kisses up Billy’ spine. The blond twitches and arches, keening in to the touch, his back being one of his most sensitive spots and Steve loves to take advantage of it. The electric fan whirs above their heads, the orange lamps casting the room soft. The street outside their motel room is quiet, only the occasional passing of a truck making a sound. Steve drags a hand down Billy’s back, watching the water drop from his hair, glisten across his golden skin.

Billy turns when Steve settles down beside him, all soft and sleepy looking, smiling up at Steve. He ducks his head and kisses his soft lips, pressing their bodies together as he slides beneath the sheets, groaning when he finds Billy naked beneath. He kisses him, mouthing at his lips, drinking in his sighs, tasting his tongue. Billy’s fingers lace their way through his hair, Steve’s run up and down his side, marvelling in the softness of his skin. Billy kisses him like he’s trying to memorize every inch of his mouth, it’s languil and soft and has Steve’s body singing. He presses his hips to Billy’s and the blonde monas at the contact, their arousals pressing together. Billy breaks the kiss, moaning softly bucking his hips up to meet Steve’s and Steve takes the opportunity to kiss down his neck. He licks at his skin, sucks on his pulse, scrapes his teeth across his collarbone.

Billy arches in to him, fingers trailing across the skin of his back. He’s so fucking beautiful like this; soft and pliant and loving.

“I love you, Billy,” he breathes against his skin, working his way down his chest, kissing across the chain of his necklace, pausing to press a kiss against the medal. Billy smiles, hands back in Steve’s hair, chine pressed to his chest as he watches him. Steve nuzzles as the light smattering of hair across his chest, breathes in the smell of him and Billy chuckles, the sound rumbling against Steve’s lips.

“Love you too, pretty boy,” he murmurs back.

He shifts, pushes Steve to roll on to his back, straddles his waist and takes his face in his hands. He kisses him firm, smiling against his lips. Steve would be content just to stay here forever, wrapped up in this boy, lying in this lumpy bed in this tiny motel room. He would be happy to just live like this, Billy’s naked body entwined with his, just the two of them, shut in away from the rest of the world.

Billy breaks the kiss, nuzzles his nose and leans back. He smiles down at him, reaching behind him to take Steve in hand. He guides him to his entrance, hips rolling as he rubs his head against his ring. Steve bites his lip, the sensitive skin against his warm skin making his spine tingle. Billy shifts, hips still grinding against Steve as he reaches over for the lube on the nightstand, drizzling out a generous amount in his palm and warms it. He reaches behind and wraps his hand around Steve’s length, stroking hi. Steve grits his teeth, bucks in to the feeling, the wet slide of his hand, the tight pressure, the side of his skin against his length almost too much. His toes curl, legs twitch and Billy watches him with hooded eyes, teeth curled against his bottom lip.

“So pretty like this, baby,” he murmurs, voice a low, husky rasp, “such a pretty boy.”

Steve flushes at the praise, cock twitching in Billy’s grasp and he brings his hands to his hips. Billy takes the skin, releasing his grasp o him and rubbing at his entrance with the rest of the lubes on his hand. He braces his hands on Steve’s chest, one wet, one dry. He slides back, hips canting back and forth and Steve’s ck slides along the crease of his arse. Its warm and wet, made easy with the lube and its too fucking good.

“Do you want to fuck me, baby?” Billy asks, smirking down at him.

Steve nods frantically, hips jerking, watching Billy’s cock bobbing hard and heavy between them. His mouth waters and it takes all he’s got no to just throw the boy down and enter him right there. He wants to fuck him in to the mattress until he’s screaming Steve’s name. But he’s good, he likes Billy’s teasing. He loves Billy like this, all slow and sensual, holding the power and taking what he wants from Steve.

“Tell me, Steve, tell me how much you want it.”

Steve whined, shivering under Billy’s intense gaze.

“So much, I need it, Billy, need to fuck you, please -”

Billy preens, tongue licking over his lips in that way that he knows drives Steve mad. Then he’s pressing him in, sinking down on him slowly, inch by inch until he’s seated against his hips. Steve watches his mouth fall open, the haze come over his eyes, the flush on his skin. He rolls his hips in small circles and throws his head back, Steve pressed right against his prostate. He’s tight and warm and feels like home and Steve grips his hips, length twitching in his tight passage.

Billy rolls his hips forward, eliciting a gasp from his mouth when Steve presses impossibly deep inside him. He braces his knees on the bed, rising up, Steve’s cock dragging out of him, a long, tight pull of skin on skin. He presses down again, shuddering as he feels Steve press against that spot inside him. Steve thrusts his hips up, prompting him to keep moving. He bounces on his cock, how own bobbing in the air between them. Steve’s hips move erratically, thrusting wildly in to him. Billy’s moaning, nails digging in to Steve’s chest, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Steve raises a hand to his mouth, tugs his lip free, presses a thumb against his tongue.

“Let me hear you.”

“The-there’s neighbors – they’ll hear.”

“Don’t give a shit, I want to hear you.”

Billy whimpers, throwing his head back, long curls swaying around his shoulders as he picks up his pace, meeting Steve’s thrusts, skin flushed. Steve’s head is reeling, the bed creaks and groans beneath them.

“God, baby, you’re so goddamn tight.”

Billy grins, moaning loudly bouncing as he breathlessly replies, “y-you’re so deep, fuck, it’s so good, Steve, you’re so big, filling me up so good.”

Steve feels his release coming, feels it building inside him. Billy’s cock is leaking, beads of pre come bleeding down his shaft. Steve reaches down and takes him in hand, pumps him in time with his thrusts. Billy shudders, moans coming louder, faster, bucking in to Steve’s touch, grinding back against his cock. Steve’s mesmerized, drinking in the sight of him so needy and wanton, it’s a joke he eve thought this guy was straight.

“I’m going to come, baby, fuck – fuck!”

He shoots his release between them, passage tightening like vice around Steve, his hips still working wantonly. Steve pumps him dry, his come splattering across his chest, over his hand. Billy moans and moans, arms giving out and he collapses on to Steve’s chest.

The brunette wraps his arms around him, braces his feet on the mattress and pounds in to hm hard and fast, his orgasm racing towards him until it comes crashing down. Billy whimpers against his neck as Steve grunts, hips stuttering in to him and releasing hot and heavy in to him. They lie panting against each other, fevered skin sheening with sweat, gasping for breath, shivering in their afterglow.

Steve’s hands subconsciously caress Billy’s skin, feeling him shake and shudder beneath his touch, breath hot against his skin/

“I love you so much,” he murmurs out, voice wrecked, soft.

Steve presses a kiss to his curls, holding him tighter, “me too, baby.”

He doesn’t know where they will go form here. He’s not sure what the future holds for them. All he knows is hat this hurricane of a boy is everything to him. As long as e has him by his side, he feels invincible. He knows that whatever they face, as long as they are together, that’s all that matters.

Billy Hargrove is the human personification of a wildfire, and Steve’s more than happy to burn in his flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that!  
> Thank you to everyone who has followed this story, gave kudos and left comments its been so lovely to read them all. This story has been something i have been wanting to write ever since Billy Hargrove came rolling on to my computer screen in all his denim glory. I really hope to see more of him in season 3 and please please please can he be redeemed i need Billy to join the gang (and fall in love with Steve)  
> Also i gave Billy a birthday in the end of July because i have a theory that he is a Leo because he screams that starsign and i also think Steve is a Libra (like me!) and those star signs are highly compatible.  
> I have another few stories in mind for these two! A Queer as Folk AU(kind of) and a few oneshots - Vampire!Steve and Werewolf!Billy is getting written now and so is a Demon!Billy and Human!Steve fic!  
> Thank you to everyone who had read this! Mad love to you all. 
> 
> V


End file.
